Tower of Glorious B(something)
by TehChron
Summary: ToGB is the story of an unlikeable Mary Sue protagonist dropped into the cut throat and often cruel world of Tower of God. Follow Aaron Gentles as he joyfully makes due with his unhappy circumstances, and learns the value of trust, family, and constant, unceasing victimization of those unlucky enough to cross his path along the way.
1. Chapter 1

**A New Challenger Approaches! **

**Tower of Glorious Bastards**

**Chapter One**

Darkness. All around me, clouding my vision. Well, I guess I shouldn't be too surprised. Those poor souls used their once in a lifetime wish on trying to get rid of me, after all.

Hmph.

Perhaps I should have gotten the specs for that ritual before cutting them all down.

Oh well.

I can see a blue light, seems to be approaching me, growing in intensity. I suppose that means it's time for the next thin-!?

* * *

_A man's figure materializes on a vast stone floor, bathed in a shining blue light. He looks up from where he has appeared on the dusty floor, and stands up. Dusting off an otherwise immaculate suit, the expressionless man takes in his surroundings. The flickering torchlight reveals his current location to be no mere cave, but a manmade hall, the walls adorned in frescos, carvings, and murals. Although his expression made it clear he could not tell which was which._

"Why hello there. This is rare, to receive two visitors in a single day. I must have woken up quite lucky this morning."

A white shape steps out from the inconsistent shadows filling the chamber, vaguely humanoid in form, but its features clearly marking it as a kind of rabbit creature. The rabbit thing approached the man, before giving a curt bow. "My name is Headon, Guardian of this Tower, and you, dear guest, are an Irregular."

The blonde man simply arched an eyebrow, "What?"

The rabbit, Headon, stood up straight at this, a decorative rod appearing in it's hands. "I said that I am Guardian of this Tower-"

The speech was cut off by a curt interruption. "No, I understood that. Explain to me from the beginning."

The hint of a smirk grew on the creatures face, "Countless millenia ago, there was a great emptiness in what is called the universe-"

"Too far back, explain this Tower thing." An unspoken threat, carrying through the air.

"Very well, dear Irregular," The rabbit tapped his weapon on the ground, somehow causing the torchlight to dim, "This place you are in now is the Tower. Irregulars such as yourself are encouraged to climb from floor to floor until you reach the top."

"Why?"

"Because whatever you may desire, it is at the top."

"Does this 'top' of yours have a way to kill a genocidal crystalline arachnid from space?"

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I'm asking if this tower can show me how to kill a reality warping spider from Mercury."

The rabbit lowered it's hand into it's chin, clearly perplexed, "I don't rightly know myself. That's incredibly specific."

A dismissive tone met the rabbit's uncertainty, "Then I have no reason to be here, now if you'll just sho-"

An interruption of his own, mirroring the beginning of their exchange, "BUT, I don't see why there wouldn't be. I can guarantee that after reaching the top, such a thing will not even be a concern to you regardless. Such is the Tower, whatever you may desire, be it riches, glory, or power, is at the top."

Skepticism creeped into the man's voice, "Well, if it's all the same, just show me the way out."

Barely hidden mirth bubbled to the surface of the monster's tone, "I'm afraid that is quite impossible, dear Irregular. The only way out is to continue climbing. Now then, may I have your name?"

The man simply glared back, his emotion hidden behind a wooden, expressionless mask of a face.

"My name is Aaron Gentles, Headon. I'll have you show me the way out. My time is too valuable to waste on your little games."

Headon raised a hand to his chin, as if savoring the man's name. "Aaron...hmm. A plain name, no flavor to it. But you strike me as an odd kind of creature, Mr. Gentles. Your personality certainly doesn't fit your moniker at all."

Aaron acknowledged the compliment with an inclination of his head, "Quit stalling. Show me the way to proceed, rabbit."

"But of course." The Guardian tapped his staff against the ground, and an eery blue light flooded the chamber.

"This is a test, Mr. Gentles. The name of it is 'ball', and the objective is-"

A loud sigh tore through the hall, interrupting the rabbit's explanation, "Let me guess. There's a ball in that cage thing, and my objective is to break it, right?" Headon's gaze simply locked onto Aaron's face, expressionless. "And of course, to make things interesting, there's some kind of powerful guard to keep me from having an easy job of it?" The Guardian looked away, it's face breaking into a rakish grin, composed of rows upon rows of sharklike teeth.

"Such insight, Mr. Gentles. You are indeed correct, once you get past this White Steel Eel-"

"I'll pass. With my abilities, a giant floating snake or two is no threat. Just grant me passage. My time is much too valuable to waste here, after all." At some point, a hatchet had appeared in Aaron's hand.

A spot opened at the edges of Headon's grin, a dark glare bore into the man's wooden expression. "My dear Irregular, that is simply not how it works, you must pass the-"

In an instant, Aaron had moved to the front of the Guardian, his free hand reaching out to grab his clothing, "I have no time. You will grant me passage, creature." But his hand merely grasped open air. In an instant, Headon had vanished, to reappear a great distance behind the Irregular.

"Now now, no touching. That's grounds for disqualification, Mr. Gentles."

The man simply rested his axe on his shoulder, and let out a low whistle of appreciation. "Teleportation, huh? I guess all I have to do is beat you up, and then you can take me to this top of yours relatively easily, am I right?"

The smirk vanished from Headon's face, the atmosphere in the chamber chilled as all light vanished. The sound of metal tapping flesh echoed, as Headon answered in a voice filled with disdain.

"It goes against my role to eliminate those chosen by the Tower such as yourself. But it seems that your arrogance leaves me with little other choice, Mr. Gentles. There will always be more Irregulars, so do not hate me for this." A loud buzzing filled the air, as thousands upon thousands of lights flared to life in the air above the two. Headon's expression, as implacid as the man opposite him, nevertheless emitted an overwhelming intent to kill.

Aaron simply arched an eyebrow, whistling in appreciation. "Quite the lightshow, rabbit."

"Had you lived longer, Mr. Gentles, you would have heard of a Red Rain, an attack similar to this, which strikes fear among all who inhabit this Tower. The legends of the Guardian Slayer, the Red Tower, Enryu, are well circulated. Needless to say, my 'Starlight Shower' surpasses that attack by orders of magnitude." The rabbits face split once more.

"Farewell, dear Irregular. This test, I'm afraid to say, has resulted in your failure."

"Interesting." The atmosphere was overwhelmed by a force of even greater bloodlust. Inside the cage, forgotten, the massive steel eel swam away, cowering in the face of it's amazing pressure.

"Well then, Headon." The wooden face split, revealing too-white teeth, "I suppose that, from here on out, it's self-defense, isn't it?"

_What did he just say...?_

The rabbit lifted his staff on high, "You talk far too much, Mr. Gentles." He swung it down, as if pronouncing his judgment to the guilty, "Disappear."

Everything vanished in a bright flash of light. Innumerable explosions rang out, the enclosed space of the chamber multiplying the echoes into a deafening cacophony. But as the bombardment ended, what dominated the Guardian's thoughts was not pride, nor satisfaction, nor doubt, or even regret. His mind was filled with but a question.

_What...is...this?_

As overwhelming an attack as it was, Headon had not keyed it towards vaporization. He had intended to use the explosive force to scatter the man's body into bits and pieces, and send them across the chamber. And yet, in spite of his overwhelming strike, among the numerous craters, there was not so much as a hint of a human body taking damage.

To the contrary. The only sign of bloodshed was the Guardian's right arm, still gripping his staff, lying on the ground some distance away from the rest of his body. A gloved hand reached down, and picked up the severed appendage. The staff was pried from the three digits clutching it, and dropped to the floor. Aaron Gentles simply stared at Headon, his ghoulish smirk cracking his features even more.

"How convenient. I was in the market for a good back scratcher." He chuckled, using the macabre tool to rub between his shoulders. "Excellent workmanship. My compliments."

The Guardian simply stared in shock. "...How?"

A ghostly bird materialized upon the man's shoulder. "You could call it an inheritance of sorts from an Ancestor of mine. This is the White Owl of the South, and it's blessing wards me from harm of that kind." Headon's gaze swerved towards the stump where his arm had been, a replacement already growing, "We can repeat this as often as you like...Headon, was it? But the result will be the same each time. And I rather doubt you'll be able to overcome me in close quarters like _that_." The shaman pointed towards the forgotten staff with his newly acquired back scratcher, "So I'll just chop off your limbs until you run out, or you simply agree to take me to the top." His rakish grin grew wider still, "You've proven quite amusing, with that body of yours.

'I wonder what face you'll make when you finally break."

A chill ran through Headon. A primal fear unlike anything he had ever felt in his long, long life up until now.

_This man is dangerous...! But, he may be what the Tower itself desires...!_

Headon flexed his newly grown appendage, testing it out. The staff vanished from where it lay and reappeared in his hand. "You've convinced me, Mr. Gentles. A simple ball test is far beneath you. I shall send you along forthwith."

The chill receded somewhat, as the torches flickered back to life. Aaron's smile vanished, replaced by an expression of mild disappointment. "A shame, then. I was looking forward to continuing our little game."

The Guardian turned towards his guest, "Mr. Gentles, you need not sulk. There will be plenty of other playmates for you to meet as you make your way to the top." He admonished gently.

"Wait! I told you to skip that crap and send me straight to-!"

In a flash of blue light, the well dressed man vanished. Alone once more, Headon turned his gaze to the ceiling above, "Well then, Mr. Gentles, I sincerely welcome you to the Tower."

As he retreated to the shadows, Headon simply stopped, and added as if the Irregular were still listening,

"You can be someone else's problem from here on out."

* * *

_Author's Notes:_

_Hey there, TehChron here. Originally this started out as a random fanfiction in a creative writing thread nestled deep within the Batoto Tower of God fan community, after awhile, someone suggested that I just upload what I'd done onto and have with it. So I did, as it turns out, since I didn't know what I was doing, the original upload of these chapters was rather messy._

_Fast forward a bit, and the story's gone from being a random way to pass the time, to being a serious project on my part. My first, in fact. So now that I've uploaded my 7th chapter of this, and taken a good, long look at what the real Masters of this particular niche of writing have done, in particular Gabriel Blessing's masterful works, and I've wound up coming back to fix things up._

_So: To those of you that have taken the time to read this introduction to the world, I deeply thank you for your time. Tower of Glorious Bastards is, as the summary implies, the story of a particularly unlikeable Mary Sue protagonist. Truth in advertising, people. But there's a lot more to that. A number of the people who have already read this story thus far are themselves acquainted with the universe of Tower of God, which is the setting of this story._

_For those of you that are not, I highly suggest looking up the series (TheCompany's translations start off a bit rocky, but as of now their quality is without a doubt superior to other scanlations of the series). Without spoiling too much, Tower of God is the story of an enclosed, massive world. The scale is so far beyond what the characters can experience as they are now, that it gives you a sense of wonder and curiosity as you want to follow the cast as they climb the Tower._

_There's tragedy, and heartbreak, catharsis, joy, and a good chunk of characterization. Behind the characters growth, you also see SIU's growth as a writer over time, and the subtle signs of just how grand his vision for the Tower is. _

_So for those of you who came across this story because it's a F/SN crossover, I thank you, but I would like to ask for your patience going forward. This isn't a story where Emiya Shirou can flourish. It's possible for him to do so in the world of the Tower itself, but Aaron Gentles isn't the kind of person who would allow him free reign._

_So then how is it a F/SN crossover? Again, I ask for your patience. The world of Magi and Servants is incredibly alien to this kind of setting, and will no doubt take some time to reconcile. After all, before anything else, Aaron Gentles is a Magus to his very bones._

_I thank you for your time, and thank you for reading this humble story of mine. It goes places that, while not as lofty as the original authors of the borrowed works may have had in mind, are pretty damn crazy all the same._

_If you have comments, suggestions, feedback, vitriol, I look forward to hearing from you. I'm still pretty new at this, and you're never too old for improvement. Until the next time_

_-TehChron_


	2. Chapter 2

**The Wind, The Trash, and The Great Me**

**ToGB chapter 2**

* * *

"YOU DAMN RABBIT-Huh!?"

The blinding blue glow faded, and the man's vision returned to him. When he was finally able to gain his bearings, he took stock of the environment he had found himself in. A stark contrast to the chamber he had just found himself in, his current location was in the middle of a patch of tall grass. Part of a great plain that stretched far into the horizon, only occasionally broken by an outcropping of earth or the random standalone cliff.

*Bzzzzz*

_Hmm...?_

"Mi~ke Test! Mike test! One! Two! Three! "

The man looked up for the source of this voice, and his eyes were drawn to a mysterious yellow cube floating independently in midair.

_The hell is that...?_

"Ah! Ah! Hello Everyone! 'Regular Members' who have entered the Tower! This is the Second Floor, and I sincerely welcome you to Evankhell's floor!"

_This is still inside the Tower? Why's it so bright, then?_

"This Evankhell's floor is also known as 'The Floor of Test'! The reason is, because this is the floor where you are deemed worthy of climbing this Tower!"

_...This 'Test' crap again..._

"Then-Minor details aside, shall we begin with a simple test first? You might as well get a good warmup exercise!"

_...Hmm?_

"The First Test is very simple! I will begin announcing the rules, so listen carefully! The following are the rules for the first test! The number of regular members on this floor totals 400! All you have to do is make that 400 go down to 200! Method? By any means! The moment the number of Regular Members goes down to 200, this test will end!

'Then~Everyone, try your best!"

_...Kukukuku. Sounds fun._

A chill wind blew across the plain, causing the Shaman to shiver slightly.

_Something about the air here...is wrong. I can't draw prana from the elements? Hmph._

_Guess I'll just have to make due. _

The man shrugged implacably, facing the ensuing bloodshed beginning to erupt around him. Arrows flew, and gunshots rang out. His supernatural protection did not rely on something as crude as prana, it simply existed, and thus he remained unaffected by the chaos. A hatchet reappeared in his hand, where he gave it a slight inspection.

_I suppose that I can't waste too much prana on activating it's conceptual effect, but it's a damn fine weapon in it's own right regardless. Besides..._

In his opposite hand, an obsidian dagger appeared, complementing his ready stance.

_This will be enough._

He ran forward, to partake in the escalating violence. As he dashed into the dusky overgrowth, a sword swung through the grass towards him. After parrying it languidly, three more arms flew out, triangulating his position with their attacks.

_Four arms...?_

The shaman regripped his hatchet, swinging it upwards. Smirking at the familiar feeling of steel biting into flesh, the arm tumbled through the air, accompanied by the fierce howl of it's owner.

"That must sting. I'm sorry, that was unexpectedly wasteful of me. I just picked up a fine backscratcher a short time ago, so I'm afraid that I don't need yours."

A dark grey figure stumbled out of the grass at Aaron, gripping it's swords as it stared at the stump that it's fourth arm had once extended from.

"I see that you bleed green. Let's see what other colors you've got going inside of there.."

An expression of mixed triumph and anger crossed the monsters face, as he glanced at the space immediately beside Aaron. In the next instant, an axe slid through the air towards the shaman's neck, which he casually dodged. Crouching down, the elbow of his would-be ambusher was met by an obsidian dagger, stabbing deep into it's flesh. A roar of pain accompanied it, as a blot of red liquid splattered onto Aaron's wooden visage.

"What a familiar color."

The axe's owner stumbled into the clearing, meeting his fellow. The two glared openly at their would-be prey, doubt creeping into their gazes. As one, the two stopped gripping their wounds, and wordlessly leaped towards their common foe.

Their enemy smirked. A steely flash lashed out, and two arms were sent flying in it's wake.

The air around the small fry chilled, their screams of anguish drowned out by the dread creeping into them. As the shaman's grin grew even wider, the two began backing into the tall grass, desperate to distance themselves from this monster that they had naively stumbled upon.

He followed, knife in hand.

What happened next was not at all pleasant.

"TRASH! YOU'RE ALL TRASH!" It was a crisis time for the great Parakewl. Taken from his perch as the lord of Goby Village by the Guardian, Headon, he was no longer surrounded by his loyal followers to act as perfect enforcers to defend he, the Great Parakewl's life.

As he ran for dear life, the Great Him cursed the rabbit creature anew. To become a chosen Regular was a great honor, and he had seen it as his moment to shine. To take the Tower by the storm. To become great. And yet...

"IT WON'T END LIKE THIS, YOU TRASH! THE GREAT ME WILL-!"

Alas. His magnificent proclamation of his pursuers impending doom was cut short, by an unjust stone jutting from the ground. Placed there by the scum chasing him, no doubt.

"YOU ARE CUNNING INDEED, TO TRIP THE GREAT ME LIKE THIS, BUT IT ENDS HERE!" The Magnificent Goby Master, in a stroke of profound brilliance, gripped his opponents weapon and turned it against him! The newly reborn stone of justice flew, smacking the villain in his malignant eye, blinding him.

"AHAHA! BEAR WITNESS, YOU TRASH! THIS IS MY, THE GREAT PARAKEWL'S, POWER!" Regripping his newfound weapon, Parakewl the Just brought down Foehammer, his rechristened and redeemed weapon, upon the criminals skull. His crime was raising his lowly trash hands against the Great Parakewl. The sentence?

Death.

"Haaa...haaa...See that, Trash? This is my...power...Haa...haaa." Parakewl the Mighty, weary from the arduous battle, then promptly took his seat upon the corpse of his powerful foe. Recycling was Justice, and the fluffy body of the lamb person was comfortable indeed.

"Only another...haa...199 to go...haaa...Maybe I should allow that trash to take on some of the load, after all...haa...The Great Me can't possibly be expected to do all the work himself...haa..."

A rustling in the brown grass before him caused the Majestic Lord Parakewl to grip Foehammer anew, ready for the assault.

"Oh, hello there, sir." A simple human stood out from the grass, clutching an oddly lumpy bag in his hand. He lifted his hands up, palms out, in the universal gesture of surrender. "I couldn't help but see your magnificent display of power, and I have no wish to fight against you."

"Hmph. Of course not. Trash like you could only hope to cower in fear of the Great Me's ability. Kukuku." Normally, the Great Parakewl would have smited such a lowly human where he stood with Foehammer, but he was willing to indulge this trash, since he understood his place.

"Actually, sir, I was wondering if I could perhaps join you. Watching your one-sided defeat of such a mighty adversary gave me...well..." The human averted his gaze, no doubt blinded by the brilliance of his presence. "Well, it gave me the idea that perhaps, by serving you, I could ascend from the level of mere trash." His gaze, inflexible in it's humility, settled back on the bag he was holding, which had begun to drip with an assortment of differently colored liquids.

Ignoring the bag for the moment, the Eternal Goby Master briefly considered his options. Having a servant could make this tedious test go by much faster, and he appeared to understand his place. A small ray of hope would be such a small investment to provide a greater reward, so why not?

"Hmph. You show promise, human. Stay by my side, and you may ascend from your station yet, although you could never hope to reach my level. Kuhahahaha!" The human merely bowed in gratitude, his wooden face out of sight, clearly acknowledging his unworthiness to look upon the Undefeated of the Parakewl's visage. "Tell me your name."

"It's Aaron Gentles, sir. It's an honor to serve you. Kukuku."

"Kuhahahaha!"

"Kukukukukuku!"

Parakewl had no idea why his new disciple was smirking so broadly, but it was a great honor to be accepted for the position. It was only natural that he would be ecstatic at being granted this rare, unprecedented, opportunity.

"Now then, trash, let us proceed, and continue slaughtering the rest of the unworthy trash on this floor! We shall pass this test, and their deaths cries shall be the trumpeting of my long-awaited arrival to my rightful place at the top of this Tower!"

Aaron Gentles nodded, his thankful smile frozen on his face. It seemed somewhat off, and more than a little creepy, but being so overjoyed at having his wish granted was to be expected. It wasn't everyday that someone became the Great Parakewl's disciple, after all.

*Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing *

"Ah-Ah! Everyone stop! Part one of the test has ended! All remaining regulars, stop what you are doing and hear me! Note! Anyone fighting outside of the designated test time will be disqualified!"

Aaron Gentles looked up at the hovering cube, irritation plain on his face.

"Congratulations to you all! Although a bit too soon-Let us commence part 2 of this test! Haha! Please don't feel too disappointed! This is a really simple test! I will now tell you of the new rules! The next test's goal is to 'Make a Buddy'! Out of all 200 Regulars here, make two of them into your buddies! Although absurdly simple, this test-Is making one team with three people!"

_...Heh. I've already got one down, now I just need to convince this green freak to...!?_

"To think that the Amazing Parakewl would need to be burdened with carrying two trash, che."

_...I will enjoy the day he outlives his usefulness. _"Sir, no need to be so mournful. Think of this as a chance to recruit a second future lieutenant for the day when your army takes this Tower by storm!"

Parakewl took this in, comprehension dawning upon his face, "Of course, Gentles. You're right, I had forgotten. Such a development was a part of my plan all along! Kuhahahahaha! This simply makes things easier, come, my disciple! Let us rescue another worthy child from the sea of trash around us!"

As if on cue, the tall grass rustled once again, and a figure collapsed from the weeds, landing on his back. He struggled in futility, but found himself unable to get back up.

The shaman stared openly, while Parakewl stood triumphantly over the troubled creature.

"Kuhahaha! As expected of the universe! To deliver my second disciple just as I will it to do so!"

Aaron, however, did not appear to share Parakewl's enthusiasm for this convenient development.

"Uh... Sir...Is this supposed to be...some kind of turtle?"

* * *

Postscript:

Thanks for reading this far, once again. Once again, comments, recommendations, and mildy entertaining or better insults are always appreciated in the review section.


	3. Chapter 3

**The Tower of God**

**ToGB Part Three**

* * *

_A short creature lay prone on the cold, hard earth of the Testing Ground. It squirmed slightly, unable to find purchase in order to roll over onto it's front. The rounded shell on it's back was simply too spectacularly balanced to allow such a mercy._

"Uhhh...hey, guys, could one of you foos give me a hand? This aint cool, man." The turtle creature protested weakly at the two figures standing above it. One green, and the other sinister.

"This trash is to be my great and glorious second disciple, Gentles?"

"Sir, looks can be deceiving. In spite of his...shortcomings, he was able to survive this bloodshed. He clearly has deep, untapped potential. A diamond in the rough, if you will."

The lanky green humanoid raised his hands to his chin, considering his disciples argument. "A good point, Gentles. Help him up, apparently we need to be..._touching_...one another according to these rules."

The sinister blonde man moved forward, and raised his foot up above the shelled humanoid. It raised it's arms in weak protest, hoping to ward off the blow, "Naw, foo, lemme go, foo, this aint right, foo! Quit messing with me!" The foot came crashing down with immense force, and the turtle's shell was abruptly tipped to it's side. Gripping it with his hands, Aaron Gentles then pulled the shell over the rest of the way, causing the occupant to be flipped face first into the ground.

"Aw, man, that freacking hurt, why'd you do it like that, fool?"

Sighing deeply, the well-dressed man crouched down, and brought a gleaming stone knife to the turtle's throat. "Call me a fool one more time. Do it." The half-shelled being drew his head back into his carapace in fear, and as he did so, Aaron nodded in satisfaction before standing back up.

Parakewl approached his newly acquired apprentice, nodding solemnly. "Tell me, child. What is your name?"

A tiny voice echoed out, "Uh...my name's Phalvin, man. Phalvin Shellonisio. What's yours?"

The Cloaked Great One nodded in satisfaction, "A fine name, but ultimately inferior to my own. For I am Parakewl the Great. And all that you see before you..." He gestured to the limitless plains, stretching beyond the horizon around them, "And all that which you shall see, shall one day belong to me."

The turtle's head began poking out of it's shell, a spark of amazement lighting up his eyes. "You're amazing, man! Can I be your follower and shit?"

The Master folded his arms, and gave the turtle a knowing smirk, "Of course, young Phalvin. You shall be my Disciple Number Two, under your senior Disciple, Aaron Gentles."

The shaman stepped forward at the introduction, "It's good to meet you, turtle, I hope we can get along well in the future." What went unsaid, naturally, was Aaron going through his mental inventory of turtle recipes. Nothing worse than not knowing your options when the time comes to chow down on the emergency food supply.

"Trash disciple, we have to be touching, so the two of you come over here. Quit making the great me wait." Nodding obediently, Aaron gripped the shell of his newly acquired teammate and dragged him over to where his erstwhile Master was waiting. The trio huddled together in an awkward silence as the remaining few minutes of the test slowly bled away.

*Whiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii iiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiing*

"The Second round has ended! For those who have made their teams! Please stay in physical contact with your teammates! At this moment, those three individuals in physical contact will be recognized as a team! And they will now be transported to the next testing locations!"

_Three smirks were drowned out by a now familiar blue light as the announcement concluded, one wide toothed and confident, the other ivory and sinister, and the last small and excited. All three vanished in the next instant from the bloody plain of the selection grounds._

* * *

_Evankhell's carrier. The testing grounds for the Regulars who had passed the initial test. A massive floating castle that hovered above the killing fields of the first testing grounds on the second floor of the Tower. Held within it were the hundreds of Regulars who had managed to survive the first round, milling about a massive processing hall. Among them were a number of trios, hovering together after having grouped up per the conditions of the last test. A tense atmosphere suffocated the weaker ones present. Easy to understand, given that mere minutes before, they had almost all been attempting to kill one another._

"Hey, asshole! What're you gonna about my arm, eh?"

"Not my fault you lost an arm because you're weak, small fry."

"Now now, kids, that's the kind of talk that trips loser flags something fierce, wouldn't you say?"

_A gloved hand appeared on the shoulders of the two arguing, forcibly separating them. A wooden face covered by curly blonde hair lowered into the newly made space between the bickering couple._

"Who the hell are you, eh?!"

"Just a fellow...Regular? I suppose. No one special. But if you recall, fighting was expressly forbidden, wasn't it?" The man raised his gloved hands, wagging a leather covered index finger in admonishment. "It would be such a waste to have survived such a battlefield for nothing, right? Let's all make peace with one another." He gripped the two anew, and brought them together in a forced embrace. "See? All better now."

_A hush settled in over the hall, as a permed blonde figure approached the group hug. The man wore what could only be described as oversized black galoshes, black gloves wrapping his arms up to the elbow, and a white coat over another black shirt. A very simple color scheme that emphasized its owners oddness for maximum effect._

"He's right you know. Do my words sound like a joke to you, chosen Regulars?"

Whispers of "He's come", "The Tower's Ranker", and "Is that the Administrator? Looks like some kind of pokemon..." filled the hall, causing the subject of discussion to take his gaze off the immediate trio in order to glance around for the one who said the last comment. A green head wearing a yellow cap swiftly ducked into the crowd in response to this last gesture.

A smile crept back onto the man's face, as he settled back on the ones who, just moments before, had been the center of attention, "I am your test Administrator, Lero-Ro."

The red haired man who was now left-handed stuttered, "Te...st...Administrator? Then you're a...ra...ra...rank..."

The blonde man's smile grew wider, enjoying the reaction, "Yes. The Tower's Ranker."

The redhead reeled, back into the arms of the well dressed blonde behind him. "A...real...ranker...?" After a moment, he finally appeared to come back to his sense, as he turned to the short black haired man and uttered a few threats before wandering off, his remaining arm clutching a growing red stain on his side.

Aaron patted the dwarf lightly on the shoulder, "Well, that seemed to end well, didn't it, my friend?" In response, the midget snorted derisively and walked off, grimacing slightly. The shaman gave a small grin as the childlike figure disappeared back into the crowd, and the Ranker, who had already turned his back, stopped abruptly and gave a small sniff to the air in apparent confusion.

As if dismissing the momentary doubt, Lero-Ro placed his hands on his hips and looked to the ceiling, a smirk forming anew, "My my, what a rowdy bunch they are." he said to no one in particular, and began his approach to the end of the hall. Behind him, Aaron Gentles tucked a familiar lumpyr bag out of sight, his face split by a rakish smirk.

* * *

"Kukukuku, that Ro, to think he would miss such an obvious thing taking place right in front of him."

"Of course, Administrator, as expected of Lero-Ro, to miss something I would have picked up on instantly!"

"Kukukuku"

"Kuhahahahaha!"

"Kukukuku...Don't you have a job to do, Quant?"

"Of course! My Master! Your coffee, Lordship!"

"Excellent work. Now then, let's continue to watch, these Regulars are proving to be quite interesting."

* * *

"Ah! Ah! All the Regulars, please gather here and listen! I will now explain to you the next test! But before that~A short introduction of myself! I am the Administrator of the test here! Ranker Lero-Ro!" The man beamed at the crowd, his jovial nature causing the tense crowd to be put even more out of sorts than before. "Please take care of me."

Confusion abruptly shifted to mass disgust. A snort or two could be heard, as well as random murmurs of disappointment. There were even voices accusing the Ranker of being trash, which were abruptly silenced by an unknown means.

"Now~You've probably all had enough rest! Let's move on to the next test! But before that! I will try one little test!" The ranker opened up his arms in a sweeping gesture towards the crowd, as if inviting them all to hug him. "Just so you know! If you do not pass this test! You will not be able to take the next test!"

Murmurs of confusion erupted anew, as the Regulars digested this new information. "Haha! Don't get too nervous! Since it's a really simple test! Just~ Relax~ And-now-" The Ranker's smile twisted into a cruel leer, "I will begin administering the test-"

Lero-ro held his right hand out, waving it around as if to grab the crowd's attention, "Here~Come~Come~Over Here~ Over Here~ Over Heeee~HAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHT!" A white flash filled the room, and a gust of wind seemed to blow the screaming crowd several meters back through the air. In the distance a turtle huddled, a goby covered his eyes while staring ahead bravely, and a smirk cracked the wooden face of another blonde man, all observing the scene before them.

The administrators ear twitched, "Yes~ The force I just used to throw you all is Shinsoo," he spoke smoothly, as if answering a question he had just been asked, "In an instant, Shinsoo is compressed, and used to create a barrier which pushed everyone here. Just as all of you already know, Shinsoo exists throughout this Tower, it allows us to breathe in the Tower and provides moisture. An essential part of this Tower. But depending on how you use Shinsoo, it can also become a deadly force. Extremely dense Shinsoo is powerful enough to mangle a person. For this reason, almost all the residents of this Tower use Shinsoo to fight. And often, there are individuals who show side effects to high concentrations of Shinsoo.

'Those who are not well adapted to Shinsoo, basically, don't have the qualities to be in the Tower. If you are able to come through this Shinsoo barrier, it means that you, at least, will not have ill side-effects to Shinsoo." The ranker lowered his hands into his pockets as he prepared to finish, "Teams that come through the wall pass. The rest of the teams will be considered to be disqualified. Then, everyone," His face broke into a cheerful grin once more, "Please come over to this side~"

"Hey, guys, what do you think? We got this?"

The turtles Master crossed his arms, giving it serious thought for a moment, "No need to worry, apprentice, even should the two of you fail, this Great Me will at least pass through-"

The Rankers voice rang out once more, drowning out whatever the Great Parakewl had been about to say, "Isn't it obvious? Disqualified." The immaculate shaman, however, had never taken his eyes off the proceedings, and returned to his teammates in order to regroup.

"...Sir, it seems that if one of us does not pass, then the rest of their team is disqualified as well."

"WHAT THE HELL IS THIS CRAP, YOU BLONDE TRASH!?"

Once again, Lero-ro's voice cut through the din of protest, "Bullshit? What is?" His grin had been replaced once more by an arrogant smirk, as the ranker's gloved hand rose to his face. He had apparently gotten into an argument with the Regulars right in front of him,

"The Teams we're in were made in haste! Being disqualified because your team can not pass! That's just complete luck!"

"Everyone," Lero-ro smoothly replied, "Do you know what is the most important factor in climbing this Tower? That is - Luck." His chin rose, and the Ranker looked down on the crowd in front of him, his expression contemptuous. As if the people before him were all merely insects he allowed to run around for the sake of his own amusement.

"Luck that allowed you to be born with a strong body. Luck that gave you a smart brain. Luck that brings wealth. Luck that avoids death. Luck that gives you a team. The reason you have all made it this far...was because of your luck." The rankers smirk grew more contemptuous by the second, staring at the crowd, "And you're saying testing your luck is unfair? Stop saying nonsense and continue with the test, Regulars."

Aaron Gentles simply smirked, the show had been a good one, and the man spoke some amusing truths. Oh well, the barrier didn't look too bad, he was sure he could manage it himself, the only problem lay with his teammates.

_...Hmm? What is with that boy standing so close to the Administrator?_

"Er...Umm...Mr. Administrator, I...I don't really understand too well, but I wasn't really pushed so..." The boy stuttered, and the shaman watching him felt his face stiffen in surprise.

_That blast sent several dozen people around him flying meters through the air, and he wasn't even affected? And he doesn't have a clue as to why that is?!_

"I...I guess, in order to take the test, I'd have to go back out and come back in, right?" The boy began scratching his head in confusion, his gaze shifting around nervously, as the Ranker's expression was one of pure, blank shock. "Ah..haha...em...uh...soo...so...sorry!" Quailing under the Ranker's gaze, the boy simply turned tail, holding his weapon, and ran back towards the barrier, "I...I guess that's obvious?! it's a test, after all!"

"No, Mr. Baam. You pass." The boy paused, and the smile returned to Lero-ro's face, "It seems that I've made a mistake, but...that too is your luck." With a laugh, the ranker made a sweeping gesture with his hand, inviting the boy to join him where he stood. "You have passed, Mr. Baam."

A storm of yells erupted, some with shock, others with anger, most with jealousy, and all of them frustrated. The shaman kept his gaze not on those who he already knew the reactions of. But there would be those who, being far more experienced with this world, would likely understood what that boys success meant.

He was not disappointed. There were at least five that did not vent their frustrations, and instead simply stared at the boy as well. A green lizard in a skirt, a man wrapped in a blanket, a blue haired boy holding a briefcase. Less certain were the imposing Gator standing next to the blue child, and the Green Lizards companions. Of whom one appeared to seriously analyze the situation, and the other, a stoic samurai type, simply did not react.

He returned to his team, "Come on, sir, Phalvin, let's go. This should be a simple task for someone of sir's talents."

Parakewl folded his arms triumphantly, "Well said, my disciple! As we are far above the rest of the mere trash around us, something like this barrier will be a minor obstacle in the Great Me's advance!" He gestured towards the glowing blue barrier, "ONWAAAAARD!"

* * *

*siiiiiiiiiiip* "Hmm, interesting. So it looks like we have two monsters, one of those with the power of Zahard, and one more, all mixed into one group."

*clink*

"I suppose it's time I go prepare my test as well."

* * *

"DAMMIT! WHY MUST I FAIL AT SUCH A RIDICULOUS TEST!? I DON'T KNOW WHAT THAT BARRIER IS MADE OF! BUT I'M PLENTY STRONG EVEN WITHOUT THOSE KINDS OF SKILLS! OUT OF ALL THE REGULARS HERE, I'M THE STRONGEST! AND NOT PASSING A TEST LIKE THIS MEANS I'M DISQUALIFIED?! NONSENSE!"

At this last part, people in the crowd began turning annoyed stares at the blue haired man screaming his lungs.

Where Aaron stood, in the process of dragging the turtle through the barrier, Parakewl having already passed out due to blood loss, was almost directly in front of the Regular. His wooden face was split by a slight grin, enjoying the show playing out right before his eyes.

"AND EVEN THAT KIND OF USELESS WIMP PASSED BY A FLUKE?! ARE YOU KIDDING!? EVEN THOUGH I'M MUCH STRONGER, WHY DO I HAVE TO BE DISQUALIFIED!?"

Silently, the Adminstrator stood up from where he had been chatting with the 'useless whimp' in question, and strode over to where the man was screaming out his complaints for all to hear. Easily passing through the barrier next to Aaron, Lero-ro walked straight up to the blue haired man who easily dwarfed the Ranker in stature.

"What? What did you come to say now? I'm tired of listening to your bullshit. You think you're all that because you're a ranker? Just from a glance, I can tell you're weak. Well, since all the tests are ridiculous like this, I guess even you can make it up! You probably got no skills at all!"

_...Ah. That's what I need right now. Popcorn. Damn._

The Ranker's annoyed expression vanished, replaced by a cruel grin, "Kuk, Even though I've laid out the last merciful chance before you, you have failed to even understand it. You must be stupid." Energy began gathering around Lero-ro, his expression turning rapturous, and the air around him started to crackle with electricity. "Fine. Then I will teach you this lesson the hard way. To show you what kind of power exists in this Tower...And why you can't possible go up!"

He paused for a second, and Aaron abruptly dropped Phalvin's shell.

_...I need to listen to every word of this!_

The Ranker exhaled, and continued, "There is no limit to Shinsoo. Through Shinsoo alone, eternal youth, immortality, the powers of a God, they are all possible. There are even rumors that the famous Enryu is able to create life from Shinsoo."

_...Enryu? That name again!_

"However, humans always rely on their own power. Which always has limits." The glow and force around the Ranker intensified, growing louder, brighter, and growing more powerful by the second, "In front of those with infinite power, the moment you realize yours limits...Humans fall into despair." With a shriek of pain, the tall blue man fell to his knees. Clutching his face with his hands, his howls of agony echoed across the chamber for all to hear.

"That Shinsoo barrier in truth was my last, merciful chance for everyone here. Before you face even greater despair." The Rankers gaze sharped, glaring at the man before him, "Basically, I'm saying those not worthy should 'fuck off'." The Regular before him began screaming in even greater agony, his body arching from the pain he was experiencing, "Why are you screaming in such pain? The amount I'm putting on you currently is only the level of Shinsoo commonly seen in floors 30 and above." Tears streaking from his eyes, the man collapsed to the floor.

"Do you now understand? Why you can not climb this Tower. Whether you are strong enough. Whether you tried hard enough. This is not an issue. You have simply...Failed to be chosen." With an expression of dismissal, the energy Lero-ro had been emitting abruptly ceased, and his victim was released, "Go back. To the floor you came from." The man vomited, "You are not worthy to climb the Tower."

The Ranker turned around, and returned back through the barrier. The giant of a man had some more words to say, but Aaron paid them no mind. Now that his team had passed, it was time to go over what he had learned so far.

This world he was in is called "The Tower". It consists of several dozen, if not hundreds, of floors. There were multiple sections to it as well, but for now, all that mattered was that to ascend to the next floor, he needed to "pass the floor's test" as a "chosen regular".

_...That rabbit called me an Irregular. Probably would raise a red flag if I asked anyone what exactly that meant..._

The elements didnt work normally here, for whatever reason. And rather than prana, the main source of supernatural powers was this substance called "shinsoo". Apparently only those who climbed the Tower as Regulars could use it with any real proficiency, which meant that learning how to use it came as part of a package deal for climbing. Only question was...where did the training take place? Could he use it to power his magecraft as well?

_...No use worrying about that now, I'll find it all out eventually._

"...Don't you think that God is quite cruel?" 

_Ah, he's talking to the kid again_, Aaron listened in to their exchange, interested in grasping the Ranker's state of mind.

_Odd. No one's mentioned any kind of organized religion, and yet they still believe in God? How bizarre._

The shaman picked up his two companions, and shook them awake, two loud crunches announcing the end of a hot blooded drive by an older man and woman to cross the Shinsoo barrier. The turtle and Parakewl the Just awoke at the same time, and joined Aaron in walking through the archways to the next testing area. Behind him, two dull thuds rang out, as did a scream or two.

"What happened to you, Comrade!? You're bleeding all over!"

"It must have been the barrier, passing through it must have killed them!"

"Quickly, someone get these two medical attention!"

"Hey...I know these guys, aren't they the ones that were fighting before the Administrator broke it up...?"

"Yeah, you're right...what a weird coincidence..."

The shaman grinned darkly to himself as medical staff rolled stretchers towards the collapsed pair.

"Excuse me, sir?" Aaron gently asked the Parakewl he was carrying, "Can Shinsoo be used to save a life when they're missing several vital organs?"

The emerald Goby King simply stared at the shaman next to him in irritation, "Hmph. Of course not, trash. A trash such as that would wind up dead no matter what."

_...Good to know. Heh_

* * *

Postscript:

Thanks again for reading so far! Exposition really is a pain in the ass to write, but its unfortunately necessary, given the source material. See you in the next chapter, which should be up relatively soonish!


	4. Chapter 4

**Smirking Hell**

**ToGB Chapter 4**

* * *

"Teams that passed the test, please line up in an orderly fashion!"

Aaron and his comrades approached the announcer, dressed in a black and yellow bee motif.

"We'll be going in order of the teams that passed!"

The implacable shaman raised his hand, "Excuse me, Miss, are you our proctor for this next test?"

The woman turned her smiling gaze towards Aaron, inspecting him even with her eyes closed, "Actually, I'm the Regulars test assistant, Yellow! It's nice to meet you all!"

_I had thought not. She didn't carry the same kind of aura as that Lero-ro from before._

"Anyway, because this test is administered one team at a time, the teams not being tested should listen to the instructions being given by this guide robot and be on stand-by," as the woman gave a casual wave of her hand, a two-dimensional pink elephant took shape behind her, "Then, let's get this test started! First team, come through this way, please~!"

Nodding to each other, the trio consisting of Aaron, Parakewl, and Phalvin marched through the doors into the testing chamber. Ahead of them, was a set of tall double doors, easily capable of fitting even the giant gator creature in the crowd that they had just left behind.

"Behind this door is another door. Past that one, your test will begin." Nodding briefly, Aaron glanced at his partners. The turtle, Phalvin, appeared agitated, nervous even. Parakewl, triumphant. It was as expected.

"Let's go."

"Then~" The girl replied, her cookie cutter smile still plastered on her face, "I will open the door."

_...Hmph._

"Good luck~"

* * *

The doors slammed behind them. The chamber ahead was pitch black, save for the scant illumination around a set of doors and something else ahead. A passing hint of annoyance passed over Aaron's face as he scanned the room. In the center, as if it were a decoration, was a set of collapsible walls. The man recalled them as being potentially Asian in nature, but knew little else. Behind them, directly above the door, was a clock. Easily as visible as anything else in the chamber. The hands were frozen at the Midnight mark, or noon if you preferred.

_0:00, huh...? So there's a time limit. Interesting._

Looking ahead, Aaron spotted a figure in a kneeling position before the decorative walls, greeting them.

"Welcome, Regula-"

"Oh, a trap," Aaron uttered without thinking, he then caught himself before giving a nod to the robed figure "Oh, I apologize, it seems that my personal gaydar was unaffected by the trip. That was rude of me." He gave a slight standing bow to the crossdresser in front of him. "My name is Aaron Gentles, sir, its an honor to meet you. Mr. Proctor."

The feminine face of the man ahead of him was as impassive as his own, "My name is Yu Han-Sung. I will now begin administering your test. Then, shall we start?"

"I suppose we shall, crossdressing trash. Bring it on, this Parakewl shall clear it easily."

Aaron turned towards the green man, soundlessly brandishing a hatchet at him.

"Kuku, I'm afraid that this test strictly prohibits deadly force, Mr. Gentles."

The shaman stopped at the Rankers words, hatchet vanishing into thin air.

Yu Han-Sung nodded, then continued, "I am actually the director of all tests on this Evankhell's floor. But for this test in particular, I am administering it myself. The rules for this test are very simple, do you see the doors behind me? Within 10 minutes, out of all those doors, you have to find the true door and exit."

The turtle at the side nodded, "Weoow, sounds hella simple."

The long-haired Director nodded, "Yes, isnt it very simple? There are currently twelve doors here. All you have to do is manage to find the 'true door' here. If you all manage to find the 'true door' and open it, you will all pass this test." The bowing figure opened its eyes, his expression suddenly serious, "However, if you do not find the door within ten minutes and give up, you will fail this test. And if the door you all choose within 10 minutes is not the true door. Then all of you," a bloodcurdling chill, "Will die."

A smirk rose to the surface, cracking his wooden features, "Hmph. Not bad. What else can you tell us, Mr. Director?"

A cold smile, "There will be no more clues given."

"...Then how about a clarification?"

Yu Han-Sung's eyes opened thinly, sinisterly, "Are you sure? Your time is already slipping by so quickly, Regular."

Aaron's hands rose up in a shrug, his tone turning sardonic, "This will be quite the simple question, Mr. Director. Tell me, are you allowed to interfere in the conduct of this test?"

"Who knows? All I can say is that I will not stop you, regardless of the method you should choose." The air chilled even further, "But you should not take that as an invitation to lay your hands upon me freely, Regular. I reserve the right to self-defense, after all."

"Then there should be no problems." A rakish leer, "I never had any intention to harm you in the first place."

* * *

_"What are you doing, trash disciple?!"_

_"Uuuh...Well, whenever I need to make a decision, I pull out these cards, right? Then I draw six and shuffle them around so I can figure out what to decide on."_

_"...THERE ARE TWELVE DOORS HERE, YOU TURTLE TRASH!"_

_"I KNOW FOO, LEAVE ME ALONE! This shit always works!"_

_"What do those cards even say, idiot trash!"_

_"...No idea."_

* * *

Aaron walked up to the crouched figure, grabbing the front of it's robes.

_Well, I guess this means that teleportation was unique to that rabbit..._

"I am not intending to harm you, you see? I am simply using the tools at my disposal to determine an answer."

"Interesting, Regular, and what do you intend to find out?"

The shaman turned a ghoulish smirk towards the Director gripped in his hand, "Exactly what lays behind door number one." The Directors chesire grin bloomed, "And I'll have you show me. Door. By. Door."

"Well said, Mr. Gentles. Let us see how this method works out."

* * *

_"WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?"_

_"...SHUT UP, I KNOW WHAT I'M DOING!"_

_"ALL YOU'RE DOING IS SHUFFLING THE SAME SIX CARDS AROUND!"_

* * *

"Sir, please grab the drink on the floor."

"GENTLES, THIS SHELLED TRASH IS-!"

"Sir, I don't want to stain the Director's clothes."

"...It seems you have a plan, Gentles. Hmph. It better work, or this Great Me will strike you down with Foehammer."

The shaman bowed, smirking, "Of course, sir. Leave it to me." As Parakewl ran ahead, picking up the cup, Aaron grabbed the blue and yellow robes of the man ahead of him, dragging the prone figure to the nearest door.

_Now then. I will determine what this 'killing function' of the incorrect door is ahead of us. If my White Owl can ward against it, I might just experiment with the rest myself, it's sure to be quicker. If not..._

He glanced down, staring at the smirking face of the Director, who clearly found the entire situation to be only mildly amusing.

_...Things could get messy...Heh._

"Hey, Turtle trash...WHAT THE HELL DO YOU THINK YOU'RE DOING!?"

"WHAT DOES IT LOOK LIKE, FOO! I'M OPENING A DOOR!"

"IDIOT! YOU'LL KILL US ALL!"

"NAW, FOO! HEART OF THE CARDS, FOO!"

***CLUNK-!***

_...Huh?_

Aaron turned towards the source of the sound. Standing there was Phalvin, looking triumphant in the shining light.

"You damn turtle...what have you done!?"

The turtle folded his arms in pride, "You were taking too long, noob. So I had the heart of the cards show me the way."

_...I'LL KILL HIM!_

"I'LL KILL YOU, FUCKING TRAAAAASH!"

From his vantage point beneath Aaron, Yu Han Sung merely smirked in amusement. Reaching down to where the mug of coffee had reappeared, he slurped deeply from it's contents.

"Hey, Phalvin. Come over here for a sec. Don't worry, I just want to know the scientific basis for this Heart of the Cards you keep talking about."

The atmosphere fell to below freezing, an overpowering coldness emitted from Aaron Gentles, as he mildly gestured towards the turtle to join him at his side. The Director lowered his cup, before raising his hands and then clapped them loudly, interrupting the homicide that was about to take place.

He clapped once, twice, three times, before standing, and lowering his head towards the trio, "Congratulations, you've all passed."

As one, the three of them turned towards the Director with an expression of blank shock. "The requirement to pass this test was, 'Open any door within five minutes and exiting'. And since you've opened a door within five minutes, of course you've passed."

"...Of course, exactly as I expected. The heart of the cards was just a formality, foo's."

"Now then, do not fret, Mr. Gentles, for you see, this test did not test merely your intellect, or your cunning. But your decisiveness and ability to act..." The blonde crossdresser looked around, stunned to see that he had been ignored.

"DAMN TURTLE!" Aaron ran up to the doorway where Phalvin had stood triumphantly, promptly delivering an axe kick to his face. "I'LL SKIN YOU ALIVE AND MAKE BOOTS OUT OF YOU!"

The Director sighed, before raising his palm to his forehead, "Well, I suppose it doesn't really matter, anyway. I wish you luck, dear Regular, for the rest of your time on this floor.

"For you will most certainly need it."

* * *

"EVERYONE, STOP!"

_A blue orb hovered over the bloody fields of the first test. Mixed into the tall grass are hundreds of corpses, each of a different size and shape. Staining the ground beneath them, as if they were painting the landscape with their blood._

"THE TESTING PERIOD HAS ENDED!"

_Evankhell's Floor, Regulars Testing Facility, Stage 1, District 3. Looming over the battlefield were three figures, standing still against the wind. The largest of them, a giant of a man clad in thick plate and holding a bloody cleaver in hand. A soft sound rumbled from his throat, only adding to his eeriness. At his feet stood the shortest of the three, a blonde girl with unkempt hair. Her brown rags showed no sign of battle, they were unkempt, but still very clean. In the hands of the third was a red needle, her own expression remained hidden, facing away from her two companions._

"ALL THOSE WHO ARE STILL ALIVE HAVE PASSED! THOSE WHO HAVE PASSED WILL BE TELEPORTED TO THE NEXT AREA!"

_Number of Individuals who passed Stage One: Three._

_Of the hundreds of Regulars who had taken the test with these three, there would be none who had survived._

* * *

Postscript: And this makes Chapter 4. Thanks again for reading up this far. Part 5 will be ready soon, at which point things will get off the rails, and never turn back. Please look forward to it, and don't feel shy about leaving any feedback you think fits. I'll be sure to give it the attention it deserves. Thank you again.


	5. Chapter 5

**Tower of Glorious Bastards Chapter 5:**

**Crown Game (1)**

* * *

"Man, dealing with that trap was exhausting." The well dressed man sighed as he sat down on a bench. His suit slightly ruffled, he took pains to flatten out the wrinkles as he let his eyes wander the room he and his two team mates were now finding themselves seated in.

The chamber was vast, built like a gymnasium, and dyed completely in a garish yellow. So much so, in fact, that it literally stung the eyes to look at it for too long, an unfortunate revelation brought about by Phalvin staring at the floor. Scattered throughout were a number of supporting pillars, accompanied by benches to seat hundreds, with a large window at one side of the chamber, establishing a break from the scenery. Aaron leaned back, the three of them, including Parakewl, were the only ones present.

_Well, we were the first ones to take the test._

The sound of a door opening broke the tranquil silence of the empty room, as a familiar blonde face entered. Lero-ro's expression perked up in surprise as he spotted the team having already arrived ahead of him. Putting a smile on, the Ranker approached the trio at a languid pace.

"Welcome, dear Regulars. It's good to see that there was a team who passed the Directors test with no hints given." He approached the bench opposite Aaron, before seating himself. He stared at the wooden face across from him, and gave a relaxed smirk. "I offer you three my congratulations." The Ranker shrugged, and leaned back on the bench, as if stretching, "Your circumstances are quite rare. For someone as quiet as yourself to pick up on the nature of the test without any hints, I had honestly expected you to fail as you spun your wheels in futility."

Parakewl stood between the Ranker and the Regular, nodding solemnly, "Of course. I admit I was surprised too, but my Disciples proved to be even more worthy of serving under me than I had thought. I, the Great-"

"Now then, dear Regulars. We likely still have some time left before any other teams make their way here. How about we have a short chat to help pass the time?"

Aaron shifted, giving a short nod towards the proctor. "What would you see worth talking about to the likes of us?"

Lero-ro brightened, smiling at the shaman, "Not too long ago, I was in your same position. Shouldn't you be more interested in receiving advice from your senior, Mr. Gentles?"

"So you know my name?"

"Of course. Someone like you, standing aside in order to quietly observe the crowd around him, someone who also happened to be the first one to not only pass my test, but the Directors as well." Lero-ro's posture shifted, becoming more stiff and alert, "If I didn't have a finely tuned ability to sniff out scum such as yourself, Mr. Gentles, then I never would have made it to where I am today." The Ranker's shoulders dropped loosely, the tension vanishing instantly from the atmosphere in the room.

"Does that answer satisfy you, dear Regular?"

Aaron leaned backwards where he sat, straightening himself, "I can't say that it doesn't Mr. Proctor. I'm all ears."

Lero-ro's expression, if anything, became even more genial. The Ranker steepeled his hands together and stared at the trio before he continued, "Mr. Gentles, Mr. Parakewl, you three seem to have done well for yourselves thus far, but I wonder if you understand the risks you're undertaking with your approach?"

Aaron frowned slightly, the expression causing his features to tense, "Risks? In an infiltration like this-"

The Ranker lifted a single gloved finger, waving it in admonishment, "No, no, no, Mr. Gentles. You are making a critical mistake about climbing the Tower." He paused, as if looking for the right words to explain it, "You see, by the laws of the Tower, we who administer the tests, simply do not care what means you employ. So long as you pass the tests and advance to the next floor. All things outside of that," The blonde man spread out his arms in a helpless shrug, "…are simply outside of our concern. No matter what you do, allegiances you swear, or otherwise conduct yourself, we Rankers can not, and will not, hinder your climb. It is a fundamental basis for the system of Regulars, you see." Lero-Ro gestured towards the ceiling, and what lay beyond it, "So you are not infiltrating. You are in a closed pen, competing with your fellows. Or working with them." The ranker nodded, smiling genially once again, "I hope that helps you come to understand your position, Mr. Gentles. To try and hide in the background is an excellent survival skill, but here in the Tower we do not seek those who merely survive. We seek to assess those who are willing to stand out, the exceptional. Those who are not exceptional? Will simply find themselves left behind during their climb." He returned to his hands to their previously steepeled position with a sigh, "Mr. Gentles. Avoiding the spotlight will not avail you. And only the truly exceptional, the truly gifted, amongst the untold [i]millions[/i] of those who climb this Tower are capable of climbing without assistance. As you already know, not even Zahard climbed alone."

Aaron's expression shifted to confusion at that, "I'm sorry, Proctor, but I don't know who Zahard is."

The Ranker's expression contorted into blank shock, as did the shaman's companions, all three of them staring at him. "Mr. Gentles, you couldn't be…" Ro's expression smoothed over as he regained control, before becoming serious, "You are not aware of 'The Kingdom of Zahard'?"

Aaron's face was schooled back into it's usual wooden expressionless state in response, "I'm afraid that in my village, Mr. Proctor, we were quite ignorant of the outside world."

"Village, you trash?! You mean you're just a hi-"

"From where do you hail, Mr. Gentles?"

Aaron let loose an explosive sigh, "I am not proud of my origins, Mr. Proctor. I am from a remote village in a part of the Tower I know nothing about. I knew nothing of the outside world until I was visited by the Master of the Tower and I became a Regular."

Lero-ro's nodded, almost imperceptibly, "Tell me more about your village, if you don't mind."

The shaman's face turned to the side, as if hiding his embarrassment, "…We're not very cognizant of the world around us. I had never heard the term 'Shinsoo' until today, as an example."

"You don't seem perturbed by…otherwordly powers, however."

Aaron's head slowly nodded, "We also have…means of fighting the…Shinheu. We call it 'magic'. Rather than taking from the shinsoo around us, it works somewhat differently. I was considered an expert in it's use, but a feat like that barrier you created earlier is far beyond my means."

The Ranker stood, reassuming his jovial demeanor, evidently satisfied, "Of course, Mr. Gentles. Even with this 'magic' of yours, compared to Shinsoo, it is less than nothing! I do not know how far you may have come relying on such a thing, but the miracles of Shinsoo are truly incomparable!" The man leaned forward, his head nearing the shaman's bewildered face, "So do not get too full of yourself, Mr. Gentles. Your parlor tricks may have served you well where you came from, but here in the Tower, you are just as much of a beginner as every other Regular." He turned, and began walking back towards the door he had entered from, "Take this time until I return to mull over what I just said, dear Regulars." The ranker paused, opening the door, "I eagerly await your performances in the upcoming tests. That goes for all three of you, quite naturally." Humming to himself, the Proctor exited the chamber, closing the door behind him as he left.

Parakewl drew close to his weathered disciple, "Worry not, Hick Trash, as long as you stay by my side, your hidden potential will be revealed! And now…" The cloaked Goby Lord wrapped an arm companionably around the sharply dressed man, "So long as you follow what I say to the letter, no one need ever know about that truly embarrassing backstory of yours, my Disciple."

Aaron answered his Master's leer with a weak grin of his own, "I understand, sir. Don't worry, no task is too meaningless for me, your humble Servant." Parakewl looked up and away, evidently satisfied.

"That's right, Gentles. You, me, and the Shelled Trash. Together, we'll form the basis for my conquering of this Tower!"

Phalvin, barely recovering from his dizzy spell after staring at the yellow floor, looked up at his companions questioningly, having not followed the conversation up until that point. All he really caught at the end was Parakewl's last few comments, and the shaman's strange, predatory grin directed towards the yellow floor beneath his feet.

* * *

After Yu Han Sung's test had concluded some time later, the feminine Administrator found himself with two unwanted guests in his office, namely the Proctors Quant Blitz and Ro. The Red haired mass of energy sat with a troubled expression on his face. The blonde dynamo knelt at Han Sung's favored table, drinking what appeared to be tea.

Such affronts. Han Sung felt a headache coming on, knowing that there was a troublesome situation at hand. Deciding to get the worst of it over with, he turned to Quant, and asked the obvious question, "What did you do?"

Quant, in his clean white uniform kneeled with speed befitting his status as a ranker, slamming his face into the plush carpeting of the office, "There was a problem with the Regular's testing in my district, Master."

Han Sung folded his arms across his chest, and turned to Ro, raising an eyebrow. The ranker simply continued drinking his tea in silence, ignoring the unspoken question. Such a useless set those two made together, "What was the problem, Quant?" The Administrator sighed, "It can't be nearly as bad as that botched attempted pacifism incident, now could it?"

From his position on the floor, Quant's muffled muttering was inaudible, causing Yu Han Sung to sigh once again in exasperation.

"Just come out with it already."

"Well…Master, we have fewer Regulars than expected out of my district."

Yu Han Sung raised his otherwise lowered eyebrow, shifting to an expression of mild surprise, "Oh? How many were left?" Having less than 200 regulars at the end of the first test was a bureaucratic annoyance, but nothing that couldnt be overcome with Ro's 'luck' blathering as a convenient excuse. "So how short are we? 160 or something? Its at least divisible by three, right?"

Quant nodded, his head thumping softly against the floor as he did so, "Yes, my Master."

Then he didn't see the need to be so fussy about it…unless…"Quant…How many Regulars passed the test in your district?"

"…Three."

"Hmmm…" Yu Han Sung nodded to himself, three hundred was a bit many, but it could be worked around, "Well, it's a bit above the quota, but it's nothing we can't work around by just killing off some of the more boring looking ones-" For some reason this caused Ro to snort into his cup. The Administrator turned towards the other Ranker, leveling a flat stare at him, before Quant raised his head again, his face a lesson in abject despair.

"M-master. I…didn't say three hundred."

There was a short silence, as Yu Han Sung attempted to process just how badly this could go wrong.

"Quant…you idiot." He sighed, before raising his hand up, "If Evankhell-nim finds out about this, we're all dead." He made a slashing motion across his neck, "All of our heads, go rolly-rolly." The pantomiming did an excellent job of emphasizing the point.

"M-master! What do I do!?" The redhead blubbered uselessly, clutching Han Sung's well-tailored robes.

He looked down at the hapless Ranker at his feet, before shrugging and letting loose an explosive sigh, his loudest one yet. "I guess it can't be helped. We'll just need to merge them into Ro's district."

"What?"

"It can't be helped, Ro." Quant crawled towards the blonde Ranker, nodding eagerly, "You're just going to have to take one for the team. Otherwise, Evankhell-nim will go choppy-choppy on our necks."

Ro turned towards his friend, staring at him with unbridled disgust, "Yours, maybe."

Quant turned back towards the Administrator, pleading, "What do we do?"

In response, Han Sung placed his hand onto Quant's shoulder, "Don't worry, Quant. I'm sure there's something you can do that can allow me to simply…*make* Ro take care of it."

His eyes shining, Quant nodded eagerly, "Y-yes! I'll become your coffee shuttle! For Life! My Master!"

Han Sung smiled down at the sap, satisfied, before turning to the blonde Ranker seated at his table. "Ro. Take care of it. It can't be that bad, unless there's an Irregular or a Zahard's Princess, right, Quant?"

The brown skinned Ranker turned to the side, awkwardly, "A-actually, Master, it's both."

"What."

* * *

Some time later, as Quant presented a bag of coffee beans to his Master with his freshly bandaged hands, the Administrator of the Floor of Test addressed the other Ranker present. "So, Ro. What's your problem?"

Lero-ro paused, in the middle of wiping blood from his gloved hands, and looked up towards Yu Han Sung, "Hmm? Oh, I was wondering if you had ever heard of 'magic', Administrator."

The trap tapped his chin thoughtfully, staring off into space, "No, I'm afraid that I haven't. Why do you ask?"

The blonde man pushed a folder across the table, "My report so far on the Regulars in my district. There's a number of interesting ones going into the position test, but the one I'm keeping an eye on right now is named Aaron Gentles."

Han Sung picked up the file, looking at it with a faint interest, "And? What does this Aaron Gentles have to do with anything?"

Ro slowly began standing up, "I have a need to prepare the Regulars for their next test,"

The Administrator turned towards him with a smirk, "Actually, you still have Quant's bunch to deal with, don't you?"

Lero-Ro paused at that, considering, "Do you have any suggestions?"

As he placed the file back onto the table, Yu Han Sung poured himself a cup of hot water, grasping a stick, breaking it open, and pouring its contents into the cup. "I may have just the thing." He began to stir the cup, mixing together his Maxim instant coffee, "Why not a bonus game, to send these monsters on their way?"

Ro nodded his understanding, stepping over Quant as he exited the Administrators office. "I understand, I shall proceed to inform the Regulars of their newfound opportunity." He bowed respectfully to the long haired man, and took his leave of the two.

As he left, Han Sung smiled into his drink, "I wonder what Ro will cook up to hurry things along?" The ambiguously gendered man looked to the side, drinking deeply, with a smug expression on his face as his eyes wandered towards where his subordinates report lay.

* * *

The once empty hall had filled, as the number of regulars had been cut by more than half in comparison to those who had successfully passed through Lero-Ro's barrier earlier. His conversation with the Ranker still ringing in his ears, Aaron's eyes calmly swept over the other Regulars as they filed into the room, having passed the trap's test.

"Master, what do you think?" He said abruptly to Parakewl, "Anyone stand out to you?" The turtle, Phalvin, lay forgotten on the ground. He had somehow repeated his previous mistake and had fallen to the floor, disoriented.

The Goby Emperor folded his arms, leveling his gaze around the chamber, "The giant lizard over there, Gentles, for sure." Aaron nodded, turning to where his companion had indicated.

_Even if he doesn't have an intelligent bone in his body…His instincts are good._

The lizard, presumably a humanoid crocodile of some kind, was seated on a bench next to the blue-hair with the suitcase earlier, and…That black haired child that had been unaffected by Lero-Ro's barrier.

Interesting.

That the three were seated together marked them as a team, just like he and his two allies were. He watched as the blue hair excused himself, and headed for the restroom. Aaron, for his part, realized he couldn't remember when he had relieved himself last, and figured it was as good an opportunity as any to do so.

"Master, I'd like to know if anything happens while I'm away." The shaman nodded towards the remaining pair, as the blue-haired young man left the group.

"Following the blue trash, Gentles? Excellent work, my disciple. Proceed." Parakewl sneered, "Inform me of what you discover."

Aaron nodded, bowing deeply, "Of course, My Master." Excusing himself, the shaman followed the boy towards the men's restroom, where he entered a stall without so much as a glance towards the boy who had preceded him.

_Pfft. As if I'd discover anything as the brat was taking a pi-_

"Spit them out, Manbarondenna."

_…Bullshit._

Aaron strained against the sound of his relieving himself, as he heard the sound of three sets of…feet(?) hit the tiled floor outside the stall.

"Alright, you bastards. Looks like the time for you to follow through on your end of the deal. For the next test, I'm going to have you wait for me to tie up my bandanna like this. Got it? This is the mark. When I take off this bandanna and tie it up differently on my head, that means you must come out and help me immediately. Remember it well."

The shaman paused, listening to the group shuffle back into the hall.

_…Those fucking instincts._

* * *

Aaron swiftly cleaned up and left the room, glancing around, and spotting what he was looking for immediately. Three…people…walking away from the restroom in a completely different direction than the one that the blue haired boy with the bandanna had. He nodded to himself, committing them to memory, and went to rejoin his own comrades.

"Find anything interesting, Gentles?" Parakewl asked, as the shaman approached him and the turtle, who was still prone on the ground.

Aaron bowed with a flourish, "Indeed, Master, it seems that the blue haired trash has assembled a coalition to give himself an advantage in the next test."

Parakewl nodded, his expression solemn, "It seems that team is gathering allies quickly. While you were away, a trash in a purple tracksuit approached the other two and conversed with them."

Aaron returned the gesture, his features becoming wooden and tense, "A team to look out for. Who are the purple trash's comrades?"

His green comrade tilted his head behind him, towards where the tracksuit stood chatting with a shorter, green lizard child, and a pretty boy would-be samurai holding two swords at his waist. The two others held themselves with a confidence belying their skill.

Aaron's eyes narrowed, as his attention returned to the people in front of him, "They certainly appear capable. If they put up a united front, they may form a formidable threat, Master."

"Nonsense, Gentles, you alone are enough to handle two or three trash on your own, are you not?"

_…What?_

Aaron already knew that he could probably handle at least half of the nine Regulars on his own if need be, but Parakewl had no reason to be aware of it.

_…Is it his instincts giving him that confidence, or…?_

He looked at Parakewl's smug expression, recognizing what should have already been obvious.

_…He's just planning on shoveling all this crap onto me, isn't he? That annoying bastard…_

Aaron blinked, shelving his hatred for the green creature before him for another day. Before he could come up with another approach to the situation, the exit to the room opened up, as Lero-Ro and that bee woman from before made their entrance.

The blonde ranker once again posed, his companion standing demurely at his side as he took in the assembled Regulars with another cheerful expression plastered on his face. "Chosen Regulars! Did you all have a good rest!? I'm really happy to see you all here!" The man's face stared into the room, taking in individual reactions to his greeting. That gaze settled on two present an infinitesimal amount of time longer than the others, one being the child that Aaron had taken to watching, whom the Ranker had conversed with earlier, and the other was…Aaron himself. For a second Lero-ro's eyes focused on him, before moving on as the proctor continued, "Hohoho," the man raised an index finger up, wagging it playfully at the crowd, "In truth I came here, to give you all some really good news." The Ranker's eyes screwed themselves shut, as if to reinforce his good cheer, "Yes" Lero-ro shouted suddenly, as if replying to someone outside of earshot, "Before I came here, I had a little talk with the Director. And the Director has decided to conduct a bonus game for everyone!"

"Excuse me," an older looking guy interrupted, the tracksuit from earlier, stepping forward with a raised hand. Aaron stared, taking in the man's appearance. He was indeed older, not quite middle aged, but certainly not a spry teenager like so many others that had made it to this point. His skin was a pale brown, his face covered in freckles, short brown hair and unremarkable eyes simply rendered him to appear utterly mediocre in the shaman's eyes. But he looked again, and noticed something that stood out.

_A purple…tracksuit? To something like this? He certainly came prepared._

In contrast to everyone else who appeared wearing casual clothes or their Sunday's Best to appear fashionable, wearing something as inherently functional as that tracksuit was a sign of a cautious, insightful, and analytical mind.

Tracksuit was a threat. The fact that he had noticed that kid before was no coincidence, just like it hadn't been with him. And presumably Lero-ro. Aaron leaned forward, standing at the ready, prepared to glean whatever he could from tracksuit's upcoming speech. It would be vital intelligence.

"If the number of games increase, it's not exactly good news," Tracksuit continued, waving his hand in dismissal at the offer.

In contrast, Lero-ro simply placed his gloved hands back on his hips and gave tracksuit a level stare, "Such heartbreaking words. A bonus game is different from other tests. Attending a bonus game is entirely up to you. And just because you didn't attend, there will be in no way any disadvantage in any later tests. But for the winner of this game…" At this Lero-ro raised an eyebrow at the Regular, as if in challenge, "They will be awarded maximum points for every test on this floor. That is…You earn the right to go to the 'next floor'." An audible gasp echoed through the room.

"Now we could use something like that, what about you, Master?" Aaron turned to the Goby Emperor beside him.

"Naturally, Gentles. For the Revolution." Parakewl nodded tersely, his eyes glazing over in greed as he began spinning his childish fantasies of conquest. So long as they won a single game.

Aaron wondered if it would be that simple. But he had other reasons for wanting to join in. Not the least of which was impressing upon Lero-ro the effectiveness of his magecraft. How dare he mock thousands of years of research into the arcane.

_Blending in be damned. I'll kill them all and see if he still can look down on magecraft then._

Blue hair spoke up this time, his voice clearing through the din like a thunderbolt, "Right to go the next floor?! Then what of the remaining tests…!?"

Lero-ro relaxed, clearly pleased with the reaction he had gotten, "You will not have to participate." Apparently someone else had spoken up, since Lero-ro continued as if answering a question, "The game you are all going to participate in is called the 'Crown Game', details will be given after we move on to the game arena."

After saying that, the blonde Ranker left the chamber through the exit once again, as did the other occupants of the room. There was not a single one that had stayed behind. The Regulars filed into a large circular chamber, as garish a yellow as the chamber they had just left. Aaron looked above him, wondering what the room appeared like from above. As his team and their would-be adversaries began walking around, Aaron noted the score of nooks built into the facility. Parakewl energetically marched forward, choosing such a divided section for himself. His disciples followed, one trudging his stumpy feet along, and the other with his face once more an expressionless wooden mask.

* * *

Lero-ro stood still in the center of the arena, to his right, a large plain throne, to it's left, was Lero-ro's bee woman assistant…thing. The throne itself was a simple wooden brown, in contrast to the garish yellow that had driven Phalvin to uselessness earlier. On the right arm of that massive chair was a simple tin crown, colored a bright yellow like the rest of the room.

His gaze swept across the arena, taking in the teams divided into their holding cells as a genial smile spread across his face. The Ranker took a breath, and raised his hand to gather the Regulars attention, "Then, now that I think everyone's in place, I'll now begin giving the rules of the game!" Ro leaned back, placing an arm on the oversized seat behind him, "In a word, the crown game is about 'stealing the crown'. Out of all the teams here, you must fight," This time, the proctor leaned forward challengingly towards his audience, "And the last team in possession of the crown is the winner. Now, though it may sound simple, the rules are a bit complicated. The Crown Game is played over 5 rounds with each round lasting 10 minutes. In each round, the teams that may advance is limited to 5. And the winner of that round is the team in possession of the crown at the end. The victor gets to automatically advance into the next round, as well. In the next round…"

Aaron tuned out Lero-ro's explanation by that point. He had discovered a convenient list of the rules on the wall next to the gate presently locking his team into their cell. The rules could be simplified from that point as:

1) Five teams maximum per round, including the victors of the previous round

2) Only the last holder of the crown at the end of the firth round would be declared the winner. A winner was, oddly enough, not strictly necessary for the game itself.

3) There was a buzzer immediately below the list of rules. Pressing that was the indication of desiring to fight in a round. And those buzzers operated on a first come, first serve basis.

4) To end a round early, it was necessary that someone grab the crown and sit on the throne before the five minute mark. Alternatively, if someone were to displace the current occupier of the throne, and then take it for themselves, then the round would end immediately.

5) For the victors of previous rounds, it was necessary for someone to wear the crown, and be seated on the throne at all times. Interestingly, dethroning that same individual disqualified their team from the game entirely. Removing the crown from the seated person in question served much the same purpose.

"CORRECT!" A loud shout pierced Aaron's ear, drawing his attention back to the Ranker ahead of him, "The winner of the round carries a big risk into the next round! But," Aaron observed as Lero-ro began playing around with the crown, taunting whoever his target was, "Just because there's too much risk, if you keep delaying your chance, the game might just end without you getting even a single chance to participate." The Ranker smirked, placing the crown firmly upon his head, "You may complain that the rules are too complicated, but…No matter what you say, in the end, the winner of this game will be the team holding the crown at the very end. Don't bother thinking too much." The Ranker's smirk turned chilly, clearly issuing a challenge, "All you have to do, is simply steal the crown. Ah," Ro paused, catching himself on something, "There's also one more thing. In this game, there are Regulars from another district participating as well, due to a lot of complicated matters."

Aaron's thoughts flew at this revelation, mulling it over. _Another districts Regulars? Most of these cells were unoccupied…So it cant be many of them._ A smirk grew on the sharply dressed shaman's face,_ Looks like we've got some troublemakers to have to deal with today_. Aaron's smirk grew wider still, as Lero-ro grabbed the crown off his head, and returned it to its previous position on top of the throne.

"Ok, you can read a detailed version of the rules of the game on the sheets attached. Now…" Lero-ro took the crown, and slid it back onto the throne besides him, "Now…Let the game begin!"

* * *

After Lero-ro had left the arena from where everyone else had entered, a floating cube hovered in from above it, colored the same garish yellow as the arena it had entered. The familiar voice of the proctor boomed out from it, "Then~ We will now! Begin the Crown Game! I will count to five, and teams who wish to advance in the first round should press the buzzer before the count ends and then come out!"

Aaron smiled, in spite of himself. Turning towards his partners in crime. Parakewl stood still, arms folded, glaring at the buzzer imperiously, while Phalvin had stared at the wall too intently, and had knocked himself out of commission once more.

"Master, let's enter this round." The shaman announced, drawing the Undefeated of the Goby's attention.

Parakewl lowered his arms, sneering at Aaron in response, "Hmph. Naturally, Gentles. It's time for us to show these trash just who it is they're dealing with."

_Loser flags aside, this annoying bastard's really easy to work with, huh?_

"Fortunately, I have a plan, Gentles. You and the turtle trash over there will occupy the enemy trashes attention while I grab the crown. Your sacrifices shall not be in vain."

Aaron nodded his agreement. That had been his plan anyway, since Parakewl was clearly utterly useless in a fight. "Naturally, sir. It will be our honor." The shaman reached out, grasping one of Phalvin's stubby limbs, and began dragging him to the front of their cell.

"I will now! Begin the count for placement into the first round! One!"

Aaron turned to the side, mastering his expression and rendering it blank, "Master, whenever you're ready."

"Two!"

"Kukuku, just wait, you trash, your time has come to be crushed beneath the unstoppable march of history!"

"Three!"

"Master, just press the damn button."

"Four!"

"NOW! LET THE REVOLUTION COMMENCE!"

"FIVE!"

* * *

"You guys…?" The purple tracksuit, Ship Lee Soo, muttered as the young, green girl to his right, Anak, pressed the buzzer.

The tomboyish girl leveled a stare at him where he had been crouched on the floor as he had absorbed the details of the rules Lero-ro, the Proctor, had laid out. "Let's go."

He sighed. It hadn't been that long ago when he had first met her, and their third wheel, Hatsu, on the killing fields of Evankhell's Hell. When he came across them during the first stage of the death match, the green girl had been wielding her massive green hook, dressed in her plain and oversized black skirt and tanned clothing, against the swordsman Hatsu's unorthodox twin sword style.

He had been offput by the two originally, but they had teamed up out of necessity. While Anak had been the first person to cross Lero-ro's Shinsoo barrier, Ship had been one of the last, alongside that annoying old bat. Unimpressed, the duo dragged him along for the ride as they took the Director, Yu Han Sung's test, and he had finally shown those two muscleheads his value. His effortless deconstruction of the test had impressed the Director, and caused the two of them to acknowledge some small level of respect for his continued usefulness.

That's why, now, Ship Lee Soo was not only expecting Anak to trip the buzzer, but he had no qualms about it. After all, they three were clearly the "strongest regulars" in this district.

"Against these guys, 50 minutes is a piece of cake." Anak leaned forward, her expression taking on a reptilian leer.

The pretty boy, Hatsu, simply murmured his agreement with her assessment. Lee Soo, on the other hand, just sighed, before raising his arms over his head, "You guys…can't you take it easy for once?"

"I think this will be easy."

"I think this will be easy."

Lee Soo smiled in spite of himself, realizing that they really had become a team after all. "Huh?" he stopped abruptly, looking forward at the three ahead of them.

_There was another stupid team?_

In front of him, was arrayed another trio. In the center was an extremely tall man, covered in a large and thick looking brown cloak that reached from high above his pointed head, and down to the bottom of his feet. He clearly was angling for Lee Soo himself, given his position. To the goby-faced man's right, was…for lack of a better word, some kind of immaculately dressed blond freak. He was dressed in a well tailored black and white suit, curiously free of wrinkles or signs of wear and tear, his feet were wrapped in a pair of black leather shoes, polished to a bright sheen. Covering his hands were a pair of clearly high quality leather gloves. He was tall as well, a great deal taller than himself, but not so much as the cloaked green man he stood next to. What drew Lee Soo's attention next was the man's curious hairstyle. It was blond, but a blond incredibly close to appearing gold in hue. It was well styled, a mystery in keeping with the rest of the man's outfit, with the hair above his forehead ending in three oversized curls, which had to clearly have been intentionally made into fairly unnatural looking circles. It was at this point, that Lee Soo saw his face, and cringed.

The man essentially had no face. It appeared that his head was hewn from a rough chunk of tree bark of some kind. Whatever eyes he had were only the merest slits, boring into Lee Soo, watching over the three of them intently. There were ears at the side of his head, the same hue as the rest of his skin, but Lee Soo found himself unable to identify any more facial features.

Until he smiled. Well, that perhaps wasn't the best way to describe the expression. More accurately, the man's wooden face cracked and broke hideously, revealing a perfectly natural pair of rows of unnaturally white, pearly teeth. There was a loud gulping noise, and Lee Soo realized at that moment that it had come from him. He swiftly shunted his view to the side, taking in the shortest and last member of the opposing team.

A turtle. A turtle that had an oddly defiant, vacant look on it's face, as it stared at Hatsu challengingly. The thing had dull orange skin, watery blue eyes, and a waxy yellow shell. It was…just a turtle, really. It was the only way Lee Soo could think of describing it to himself.

Putting the second member of the team aside, Lee Soo felt his confidence returning to him, as he and his teammates smirked at their opponents.

"I think you'll regret it," Lee Soo began, his allies reaching for their weapons.

"Oh, I very much doubt that." The…thing in a suit commented, his voice rough and every bit an indication that he was as ready to begin the fight as Anak and Hatsu were.

"THEN!" Lero-ro's voice erupted, filling the arena, "The placements have ended! Now then, the Crown Game, First Round, BEGINS NOW!"

* * *

Aaron smirked. He couldn't help it. It was exactly the people he had wanted to make an example of before the blue hair took to the field. Tracksuit was uniquely positioned to make the biggest statement before blue hair made his move with whatever he had been scheming in the bathroom.

From what he could tell, Tracksuit was smart. And smart men don't make reckless moves like coming out first round in this game unless they had a very good reason to be confident.

Oh well.

The pale green girl strode out towards them, her whip like weapon held loosely to her side. "This time. I fight alone. You two, stay out of it."

Parakewl leveled a stare at the green child, "Alone? Who do you think you are, trash?! I am Parakewl the All-Powerful!" The girl just continued marching towards her opponents, ignoring the Goby Emperor's rantings, her tail poking out from her skirt and wagging to and fro as she approached.

"Uh…Uh...GENTLES!" Parakewl had begun to back off, his expression suddenly nervous in the face of the very clear killing intent directed towards him, "Take her! Force upon her how seriously she should take this!" The taller green figure pointed, directing his scream at Aaron, who simply stood by, his smirk having already departed. His expression once more neutral.

But the one that responded to Parakewl was the shorter green child in front of him, "Seriously…?" She began, her hands gripping the hilt of her strange weapon, "Well that…depends on how well you do."

Parakewl, at that, had had enough, "THEN DIE!" The tall figure stormed forth, his hand raised, clenched in a fist wielding a terrible power. Smoothly, a small green palm went out to meet Parakewl's face…

And then was interrupted with a small pinging sound. The girl's strike had been blocked by a worn wooden handle, loosely held in the gloved hands of the Undefeated of the Goby's Number One Disciple, Aaron Gentles.

"Nice arm." Aaron raised his empty hand up, and a dark stone dagger appeared in his open palm, from nowhere. "Mind if I have it?" The shaman stepped forward, swinging it at the girl's midsection, his longer reach forcing her to back away from the pair. A sound like two bits of flint striking together echoed through the air, an earthy chuckle from the shaman, presumably.

"If you don't take this seriously…You might die." Aaron sighed, focusing on himself. Within him he could feel his own 'od' being generated and ran through his magic circuits. He filled a couple of them, devoting them to a series of tattoos on his skin, and running more of the generated prana through an alternative set of markings cunningly woven into the stitching of his clothing. Each of these were a series of Runes he had painstakingly crafted over the course of years to provide his body sufficient reinforcement and power to struggle against the legions of inhuman monsters that populated his world.

There were certainly those that could defeat him in a hand to hand fight, but there was no human being who would be able to outmuscle him with the full armament of his magecraft enhancements brought to bear. He reached out, attempting to draw in the ambient mana in the environment to build up prana, and found it lacking.

_It's nothing I wasn't already expecting. Oh well_.

The green skinned child glared at him curiously, as if just barely having noticed his presence. The look of profound surprise on her face struck Aaron as strangely amusing, and he continued to chuckle, raising his two weapons up; the hatchet in his right, and the knife in his left. From far outside the reach of the whip like weapon, the girl took a sudden a swing at him.

Aaron raised up his hatchet and shrugged the strike off even as the girl's weapon extended to over three times its original length in order to reach him. He watched in satisfaction as the girls expression shifted from curiosity to anger, and she blurred, charging at him, weapon raised into the air.

The shaman smirked, stepped forward, and shoved his foot forward into the air as he used his runes to dig into the ground beneath the his other leg. She comically slammed into the shoe, but rather than be propelled away from the rebound, she dug in, and launched Aaron backwards instead.

Caught off balance, Aaron swerved to place his foot down and regain his posture as the girl swung her weapon forward, aimed at his exposed midsection. The shaman shifted, rolling backward to avoid the strike, and rolling back up to regain his stance properly, staring at the lizard brat anew.

She straightened back up herself, glaring at her target. "Right back at you, asshole." The girl gripped her weapon tightly, the sound of it echoing across the arena, "The name's Anak Zahard. And you're fucking dead."

Aaron smiled to himself, "Well, Anak," he relaxed, leveling a smirk at the girl, "You're not the first person to say that-"

"But I sure as hell am gonna be the last." She replied, cutting him off, before blurring again, shooting into the air as she unleashed a number of green slashes at her target, the blows whipping and shrieking through the air as her weapon smacked and rebounded against the floor, missing him completely.

Aaron simply charged forward, smiling to himself in spite of the show of force. Her random strikes possessed a superhuman level of power, but…

"You're sloppy."

And it was true. The weapons reach extended randomly, contorting through the air in a desperate and crazed bid to strike him, but each strike which approached their target was turned away and deflected by the Shaman's two weapons, held close to his torso. The whip-thing snaked, cracked, and stabbed at the shaman, but each attack was predictable, each strike clumsy. Aaron had stolen from monsters and men, each guarding their treasures more jealously than the last. He had stormed into their homes and lairs, faced them down, murdered them in cold blood, and smirked as they desperately brought to bear tooth and nail, mysteries and phantasms, in their bids to repel him.

Very few had been this inexperienced, and all had died the same way. It was the reason Aaron had never really needed that many changes of clothing, frankly speaking. They simply weren't ruined that often. His gloved hand snapped out, stone knife gone, and grabbed the green weapon as it's master made a careless strike at his face. He pulled, and whatever force had held her aloft in that instant was interrupted, bring her crashing back down to earth.

The young girl charged at him again, her reptilian brown eyes clouded with rage and fury as she lashed out in front of the Shaman, attempting to overpower his defense from close range.

An Obsidian Knife erupted into his palm once again, stabbing into the empty space which Anak had launched herself into, her eyes shifting from fury towards blank shock as she approached the edge, before a glimmer of steel flew out, knocking the blade aside, and reminding the girl to halt her suicidal approach.

"Sword that flies higher than any," The swordsman stated coldly, announcing the aria of his sword style, "Sword the flies lower than any." He reached for a second blade, this one bearing a blue hilt, as he swung in a smooth, crisp motion.

There was a loud clanging sound, as it was rebuffed by the Regular present who was truly lower than any. The anthropomorphic turtle, Phalvin, had taken the sword strike, and stared at the swordsman furiously.

"Hey, foo'! Who do you think you are going after my friends, huh?! I'll fuck you up!"

The swordsman's eyes narrowed at the interruption and declaration, bringing the blade in his hand into a two handed ready stance. He simply stared at the reptile in front of him, his gaze level and steady.

"FOEHAMMER! IGNITE!" A loud crunch echoed through the room, as Parakewl had somehow managed to sneak behind the purple tracksuit, produced a rock, and then swung it the back of his head, knocking him unconscious.

"Kukukuku, good work, my disciples, hold them there! I! The Mighty Parakewl! Shall take the crown from here!" The Goby folded his arms into his cloak, and began running for the throne in earnest, "Cover my retreat from those trash, my minions!"

The smirk returned to Aaron's face, as he gave his Master a curt bow. "Naturally, sir. Leave cleaning up these eyesores to Phalvin and myself."

Hatsu spared a glance for the fallen tracksuit, before focusing on Phalvin. His surprise at his blade being so easily turned away apparent. The green girl, Anak, however, simply began glaring at her opponent anew.

"You're fucking dead." She raised her weapon up in the air, a pressure and unholy bloodlust suddenly chilling the atmosphere, "GREEN APRIL! IGNI-!"

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAND THIS IS THE END OF THE FIRST ROUND! Now that Regular Parakewl has taken the crown and seated himself on the throne before the 5 minute mark has passed, his team are the winners of this round, and will continue on into the next one!"

Anak lowered her arm, still gripping her weapon tightly, the bloodlust in the air not wavering in the slightest bit. "You have until the beginning of the next round, asshole. Say your prayers and wash your neck in the meantime." She spat at the shaman standing in front of her.

He smirked back, clearly enjoying himself as she picked up the tracksuit from the ground, who was now groggily returning to consciousness from the state Parakewl had left him in.

Anak's death threats were almost cute, really. Especially given the fact that she would never get the chance to carry them out again.

With the first round firmly in hand, the shaman decided that it was now the perfect time to begin showing off just how truly effective his magecraft could be.

* * *

__

Author Notes: And that's it for Chapter 5!

_For those of you that are familiar with the source material, this chapter is a pretty clear departure from the original canon of the Crown Game. I'm afraid that this may annoy series purists, but like it says in the story description, Aaron is an incredibly unlikable Mary Sue._

_At this stage, some readers (Im grateful to those of you who take the time to read this) may find themselves wondering why I decided to label this a F/SN crossover. That will only become clearer, but for now, Aaron's basically an original character based on nasuverse mechanics. As such, he brings to bear a completely set of laws into the Tower, as an Irregular amongst Irregulars._

_However, as the story progresses, and it will, Aaron will discover that he is far from the only Magus to have wound up in the Tower of God. But for the moment, Aaron is following the rest of the Tower of God Season 1 cast, as a random element tossed into the mix, and disrupting things with his presence. This too, will only become clearer and clearer as the story progresses._

_Just like every other Test that occurs in the series proper, the laws will prove to be somewhat relevant to the progression of the story itself. Aaron and Co.'s troubles are far from over going into the second round of the Crown Game, so the next chapter will be action packed, with only a minimum of infodumping._

_Also, keep in mind that unless Aaron's saying something to himself in italics, and it is inconsistent with what has already been presented in the story, then Aaron is lying through his teeth. He is a deceitful, conniving bastard, and I think that's a large part of his charm. ToG has so many complex villains with a variety of motives and general deep, purposeful backstories. Its a testament to SIU's strength as a writer._

_But I figured that, you know what? This setting could really use more mustache-twirling evil bastards that are just evil for the shits and giggles of it. And thus, this story was born. Aaron's not perfect, and he's not the kind of guy that can beat any single Regular in single combat, as indicated by this first fight between Anak and him. He's a thoroughbred combat pragmatist through and through, and when he has no business winning a fight, he simply won't._

_But give him control of the battleground, knowledge of the enemy, and a chance to prepare for the contest?_

_Well, I just hope that you'll all look forward to the next action-packed chapter of the Crown Game, and the revelation of Aaron's Magecraft and his utterly ridiculous Mystic Codes._

_Until then, feel free to leave your thoughts, comments, and criticisms as a review, and thanks again for taking the time to read this story! See you next time!_


	6. Chapter 6

**Tower of Glorious Bastards**

** Chapter 6**

**Crown Game (2)**

* * *

Aaron watched the bemused kids drag their tracksuit friend back into their nook, the portcullis shutting behind them, leaving behind them the distinct impression of being nothing more than a bunch of animals having been locked in to their cage.

Which made sense, really. The green tailed girl had been monstrously powerful, and the pretty boy samurai-wannabe had been both strong and skilled enough to accurately deflect what should have been a fatal strike against her. The shaman found himself wondering idly if the ability to manipulate his swords telekinetically was something granted by manipulating Shinsoo, or something more similar to his own magecraft. Or even that "ki" stuff he had heard about in comics.

Not that it mattered, in the end. He'd get his answers one way or the other.

"Gentles!" A harsh voice rang through the air, interrupting the shamans reverie, "We need to figure out our next step!" The owner of it was his ostensible 'Master', the Goby King, Parakewl.

Crushing a grimace before it could form, Aaron turned towards the center of the garishly yellow arena, where the green skinned figure sat tall upon a massive brown throne, a cheap yellow crown perched ostentatiously upon his head. "Of course, sir." The shaman directed towards the seated figure, giving him a curt, deep bow before walking to join him and the now apparently wide awake turtle standing at attention beside the massive chair.

As he approached the pair, Aaron reached into the vest of his suit and withdrew a flat wooden case, flipping it open to reveal an array of colored paints.

"So?" Parakewl demanded, eyebrow raised arrogantly, the very picture of regal incompetence, "How are we going to hold off the trash vultures for the next few rounds, Gentles?"

Aaron bowed ingratiatingly, turning the paint set in his hand to where his unwitting stooge could see it, "Why, with magic, sir."

Parakewl paused at that, recalling that magic had been mentioned as his disciples specialty, in addition to being something capable of repelling that lizard child from before. He nodded, before answering, "And how exactly is that set of paints supposed to help us? Is that really the magic you were talking about?"

Aaron rose to his full height, dipping a gloved finger into the paint before withdrawing it, now stained a deep crimson. "It's magic of a sort, sir." He paused, waiting to see if the Insufferable Goby Lord would interrupt, when he simply waited attentively, he continued, "Magic, or magecraft as we magi like to call it, is simply the manipulation of an energy called 'prana' in order to create effects. In a way, its a great deal like this Shinsoo substance that Lero-ro was referring to. But there's a few key differences.'

'Firstly, Shinsoo is something that permeates the Tower. We are not capable of creating it, only manipulating what is out there naturally. You could say this is a limitation, but it appears that there are both vast amounts and a great deal of versatility in manipulating Shinsoo. So I don't quite understand how much of a ceiling this is for those who can manipulate it. But that upper limit should theoretically exist.'

'In comparison, rather than reshape the Shinsoo around us directly, we magi generate what is known as 'Prana' internally, then use that energy to affect a change in the outside world."

Parakewl nodded thoughtfully, "And how does that work, Gentles?" The shaman sighed internally, debating the necessity of explaining the nature of thaumaturgy schools, the Root, and how Magic Circuits enabled a magus to draw upon and manipulate laws which were in themselves mysterious and unknowable for most people. Then he remembered that he was short on time.

And that he was likely going to kill Parakewl sooner rather than later, so any effort expended would be wasted on his part.

"To put it simply, magi have their own styles of magic to draw on. And specific tools which we develop in order to aid us in doing so." He raised up his paint covered finger for emphasis, "And these tools are referred to as Mystic Codes. Mine in particular, is this war paint, which I've infused with my own prana at the time I made it. This allows it to function independently of my input, and given the nature of magic, you could say writing it down physically onto the world makes it a great deal more potent then simply mumbling random gibberish and hoping for the best."

The turtle looked up at this, his watery eyes filled with confusion, "Yo, I don't follow you, foo'. What do words have to do with magic?"

And then Aaron remembered that not only was the turtle even dumber than it's erstwhile master, but that it raised a very good point about how they knew absolutely jack shit about magic in their society.

"You know how some people shout out their technique names when they use them, Phalvin?" The turtle nodded excitedly, latching onto the shaman's asspulled analogy easily, "It's like that." And then Aaron was suddenly very grateful that he didn't have to explain much, given their very short time to work with, and the pairs very short life expectancy from that point on.

So he walked up to the throne, and began drawing a number of simple runes around the throne. The shaman was, by this point, very well aware of the lack of mana in the atmosphere. Leaving whatever magecraft he implemented from here on out dependent entirely upon what od he could generate to fuel it.

And given the fact that Aaron wasn't entirely sure that the Thaumaturgical Schools effects even reached the interior of the Tower to begin with, he figured that the best bet was to stick to the more widespread stuff and hope that it stuck. So Elder Futhark it was.

Aaron Gentles possessed three unique qualities as a Magus. The first was his unnatural Origin, which was something which caused him no end of trouble, the second was his own unique Sorcery Trait. Which was, frankly, the only reason any of this might work to begin with. And the third, was what lead him to develop the war paint as his Mystic Code in the first place.

Magecraft was somewhat complicated, as a vast understatement. It wasn't simply enough to use up some kind of weird, unquantifiable energy, spit it into the world, and hope for the best. What was necessary was that enough people believed that if you prepared a certain amount of that weird, unquantifiable energy, threw it around in a certain way, then a certain effect would certainly happen. Then, and only then, could a mystery truly come into being. Now naturally, there was a bit more to it than that, the need to engrave that faith into the world with Greater Rituals, the laws of equivalent exchange to consider as well, and other assorted necessary errata.

Except in Aaron's case, a large number of these did not matter, since he was the only magus in the world that drew upon the laws which he did.

The shaman drew more marks onto the ground, completing the impromptu circle around the throne. He leaned up, returning the paint set to the inside of his suit.

"So, what does this do?" Parakewl asked, staring at the ground intensely, his curiosity temporarily crushing his usual arrogant demeanor.

Aaron shrugged lightly, "With magecraft, I generate within my body a mystic energy called 'od', but simply making that energy doesn't allow me to perform my magic, sir." With his preparations completed for the moment, the shaman found himself oddly talkative, "What allows magecraft to be generated is 'prana'."

"So then how do you use this 'prana', Gentles, if your 'od' doesn't do the trick?"

At this, Aaron pulled back the cuff of his left arm, revealing a single glowing line on his reddish-brown skin, "This is called a magic circuit. By running my 'od' through it, I can convert it into 'prana', which is what enables me to draw on my magecraft."

The turtle stared at his companions arm, mystified, "Then why you need to draw those weird lines of the ground if you can just use those magic circuits?"

The shaman nodded, "Because there are limits to what I can generate on my own at a given time. There are two ways to generate prana, the first is to generate it internally, which is how we get od, which we call 'The Lesser Source'. The second is to tap into energy that is naturally present in the environment. 'Mana' is not a physical substance like Shinsoo is, it's just a form of pure energy. We magi call it 'The Greater Source', simply because there's so much more of it than what we can generate ourselves." He gestured to the marks circling the throne, "These markings I've made with my paint are infused with my own prana generated from my od. I can do any number of things with them, since they function like batteries that can be molded to my own will.'

'These ones…" Aaron continued, before walking in front of Phalvin, his foot raised up, "I've set up as artificial magic circuits with the runes I've written them as." He placed the sole of his shoe against the turtle's face, pushing him towards the nearest rune, the air around it shimmering ominously. "There's a large variety of runes, languages, and other things such as simply 'writing' or 'marking' can wind up meaning. This paint allows me to add on additional meanings, twists, or applications to what they would normally mean.'

'Think of it as me changing it into a different language entirely of my own design. That's more or less what I do with these markings."

A beeping sound rang out from above, announcing the beginning of the next round.

Phalvin brushed his teammates foot aside, moving away from the marking on the ground, "So what does this shit mean, then?"

The shaman's face cracked, shifting into a small grin. "Watch and find out."

* * *

Lero-ro's voice rang out through the arena, "Then! Shall we begin Round Two of this game? Because there's already a team from last round, maximum additional entry is four teams! Then! I will begin counting! Those who want to participate in the next round, please press the buzzer before the count ends!"

"ONE!"

Anak was not pleased, the seething anger radiating from her small form had done more to wake Lee Soo up from his comatose state than anything else had. He looked up from the floor, noticing that the lizard girl had apparently dragged him along the ground back to their holding area.

"TWO!"

"So…we lost the first round?" he asked, already knowing the answer. Behind him, a sharp clinking sound alerted Lee Soo to Hatsu's presence, and Anak abruptly dropped the tracksuit-clad ankle she had been gripping. She turned to glare at the man on the ground, her expression burning with hatred, anger, and oddly enough, desperation.

"THREE!"

But then Anak sighed, and her expression became purely exasperated. "Aren't you going to get up? It's almost time for us to get revenge on that faceless bastard." Her hand reached out, and slammed against the red buzzer next to the gate to their cell.

"FOUR!"

Lee Soo stared at his teammate, confused at the way she was acting. The desire for revenge he had expected. The clear emotional baggage that accompanied that desire, however, came as an abrupt shock to him.

"FIVE!"

Lero-ro's distant countdown finished, and the bars separating them from the rest of the arena lifted, opening their way into the greater space where the crown and those defending it stood ready, waiting.

Lee Soo shook his head, clearing away the lingering effects of the ambush by that goby bastard, and slowly stood up. He turned towards his companions, as they wordlessly walked out to meet their opponents, the three of them were tense, all lightheartedness from the previous round long gone in the face of the what it had resulted in.

"Yeah…" Lee Soo leaned forward, his hands going into the pockets of his tracksuit, "Let's go kick their asses."

The last round had to have been a fluke, after all. If Anak hadn't let herself get caught up in that blonde bastard's pace, then the three of them would have easily been able to take out the green guy and that turtle on the opposing team, leaving their way to the crown clear.

The three of them strode into the center of the arena, watching as two more teams walked out, prepared to make their play at the crown this round as well. To their left, Lee Soo could make out that ajumma from Lero-ro's test. The black haired woman in her late twenties to early thirties had short black hair, black eyes to match, and a midriff-baring black tanktop and skirt to complete the ensemble. Lee Soo couldn't help but chuckle at the implications of a woman her age dressing up like she was going man hunting, but then he looked at her team mate and realized that maybe she did have a reason to believe she would have competition after all.

The ajumma's team mate was another blonde, with her long hair a darker honey shade in comparison to the axe wielder standing near the throne. A single red horn stood out incongruously from the side of her head, and she was dressed in a long flowing white robe, with a red cross splashed on it. Her tan skin and gold eyes stood out as especially attractive to Lee Soo, and he felt himself begin to stare, before he was distracted once more by the wooden grating of the axe wielder's chuckling.

Lee Soo stared at him, as the taller man leaned down towards the turtle accompanying him, gesturing towards the other blonde and whispering something into the smaller figures ear. Its tiny appendages went up towards its beaklike mouth, as it began heaving in its own silent laughter.

Lee Soo had no idea what they found so funny about such a pretty woman, but now wasn't the time to worry about things like that. He had spent the entire time between rounds unconscious, and now he needed to plan. He looked to his right, where the other team stood. He didn't recognize any of them.

The one that stood out the most was, unsurprisingly, the tall, peach-skinned, four-eyed one dressed in what Lee Soo could only vaguely describe to himself as a white golf shirt with a purple collar and fittingly khaki-colored…khakis. His muscular build lent him the image of being a powerful brawler. The next tallest was a pink-skinned swordsman dressed in a brown toga-like garment with a single blood-red eye, his brown hair done up in some kind of over-exaggerated topknot that ended in a long, wild pony tail that had a more than passing resemblance to the style's namesake. The last was another swordsman, the childlike man dressed in a plain brown ensemble colored the exact same shade as his bowlcut hair.

Lee Soo thought to himself that these three certainly looked capable enough. But how to get them on his side for this round for long enough to dislodge that green bastard from the throne?

* * *

Aaron smirked in satisfaction. Of course tracksuit and his team would come out and make a second attempt. He had figured as much since Parakewl had taken the throne and ended his fight with the lizard girl before he could bring it to a proper conclusion. On the other hand, what intrigued the shaman wasn't the team he was more or less certain would be unable to claim victory against him, but the two unknown factors that had appeared in this second round. The one team to his right, consisting of one woman and two men, and the other team consisting of what amounted to essentially cannon fodder generic swordsmen and an oversized grunt.

On the one hand, you could never really tell with those types, just how strong they were until they actually did something. But Aaron was relatively confident that unless they were at least on the same level of strength as the lizard girl, then the wards he had placed around Parakewl would more than suffice in removing them as a threat.

That being said, the team to his right, one of it's male members, was lying down just barely within the confines of the arena, wrapped in a blanket with his head on a pillow. The eccentric drew Aaron's attention to him. The shamans experience in fighting the supernatural over the years had invested in him a number of valuable lessons that tended to come in handy quite often in combat. And paramount among those was that if someone appeared on the battlefield who acted in a way that would ordinarily get them killed, then they were probably extremely dangerous. One way or the other. Either they acted in such an idiotic way that their behavior became unpredictable, and thus became a risky element to his own continued safety or success, or they basically acted that way because they were so damn strong that they could get away with it.

In either case, Aaron understood that the best manner to deal with such a person was the same regardless of the circumstances. And that was to kill them with extreme prejudice at the first available opportunity.

"AAAND NOW," Lero-ro's voice echoed from above, "Let the Crown Game second round, begin now!"

* * *

It wasn't particularly difficult to make things easier for himself. Just from idly watching them before, and then after the circumstances of the previous round, Aaron had come to understand that tracksuits team were very proud creatures. Lizard girl had been arrogant enough to try and challenge him and his team alone, and hadn't even thought to call for backup once Aaron had proved to be more than a match for her. Provoking her to seek a rematch would be nice and easy.

The samurai kid was equally proud, only stepping in to fight in order to interrupt an otherwise fatal blow, and then settling himself in for his own one on one fight against Phalvin. And so, once again, this time with three teams arrayed against him, Aaron knew just what to do in order to let his problems solve themselves.

"You know, lizard," The shaman called out, noting with satisfaction as the green girl flinched at the nickname he had assigned her, "As a word of advice, you should probably attack me at _least_ two on one this time around." He leered at her, watching her head bow, and the hand gripping her weapon begin trembling in frustration, "I prefer things when they're a challenge-"

She leaped into action, going towards the team closest to her, the one with the two swordsman and resident Big Guy. He ran prana into his ears, using reinforcement to enhance his hearing in order to catch snippets of confused protesting as the lizard girl approached them, her green weapon raised high above her head. Her head bowed, she slashed downward, and the air cracked loudly as the trio were slapped backwards, tumbling across the arena before coming to a dead stop against the wall opposite.

She didn't move, but Aaron watched as she sighed, the trembling that had caused her hand to shake on the hilt of her weapon finally halting as she mastered herself. With her brown bangs covering her face, the girl called out to her companions.

"Hatsu. Lee Soo. Leave that bastard to me. You two handle the rest." She turned, and stared at the shaman. Aaron physically felt the killing intent of the young girl, as he glimpsed some kind of iguana-like silhouette form behind her. Just as planned.

Tracksuit, on the other hand, suddenly panicked, waving his hands at the samurai kid and protesting how he couldn't handle so many at once. For the first time, Aaron heard the pretty boy speak, and the shaman couldn't help but smirk.

"Ship Lee Soo, what are you complaining about? Handling the rest of them should be a simple matter. With my sword. And your killer arts."

Tracksuit appeared dumbfounded for a moment, then nodded in affirmation and walked off towards the other team. The black haired woman had produced a knife from somewhere in that suggestive number she had been wearing, and the blonde took up a stance of some sort.

The trio began to converse, but the shaman had better things to worry about, and turned his attention back towards the lizard girl. His own opponent was still staring at him with an unwavering intention to kill. He smiled at her, an honest and eager one, yet still horrible given the fact that it was his own face making the expression. The atmosphere charged, the child, Anak, prepared to make her move in the face of this latest provocation.

"BRING IT ON! BIAAAAAAAAAAAATCH!" Someone said, and then their fight began in earnest.

* * *

Lero-ro stood within a room overlooking the arena, observing the game unfold alongside his assistant and fellow proctor, Quant.

"Anak Zahard, hmm?" The ranker raised his hand, cupping his chin, "I had been hoping for a repeat of what had happened back when Princess Yuri had begun to climb the Tower, but compared to her, Anak seems…underwhelming." The girl in question had charged her opponent with overwhelming speed, the well-groomed man dodging as she barreled past him below. Lero-ro's eyebrows knitted together in an expression of disappointment, "It's almost as if she's weaker than other Princesses."

From his side, Yu Han Sung entered the observation room, a cup of coffee held up to his lips, the feminine creature raised an eyebrow at his subordinate teasingly, before kneeling and continuing to enjoy his drink. The expression went unnoticed, as the blonde ranker continued watching the unfolding battle below.

"The weapon seems interesting, though…"

* * *

Aaron watched with satisfaction as the girl in front of him abandoned all pretense of ranged combat, instead attempting to close in and overwhelm him physically. She raised her weapon up high, the shaman finally noting what it reminded him of.

_A giant hook?!_

Before slamming it down against him, a blow which he easily sidestepped.

"Even with all your strength, and even with such an excellent weapon at your disposal, you're just not good enough to hit me, Ms. Anak." The shaman smirked, continuing to taunt the girl, attempting to draw out the true depths of her strength.

Before the previous round ended, the lizard girl had been in the middle of uttering some kind of aria, if it was anything like her swordsman team mate, it would be related to controlling her weapon.

And there had been something he had been wanting to try.

The girl's hand clenched, gripping the hilt of her hook with greater force, she swung the weapon horizontally, sweeping the air in front of her. Aaron had no choice but to block, his hatchet rising up to absorb the blow as the force of it pushed him back. Her pace slowed, and she stared unblinkingly at the shaman in front of her, as her killing intent charging the atmosphere between them.

"See? I did hit you." Aaron shook his head, chuckling in spite of himself.

"So you did." The shaman stomped the ground, using the force of the strike to launch himself through the air towards the young girl. She made no attempt to dodge, instead bringing up her green weapon to block. Aaron impacted against it, pushing the wooden shaft of his hatchet into the oversized hook, it's owner glaring at him, waiting from him to make his move.

So Aaron obliged her. A small pistol appeared in the shaman's grip, the barrel pressing against her brown pupil. As he pulled the trigger, a dry crack echoed through the arena, accompanied by the metallic tinging of the bullet casing bouncing across the floor.

A second later, a second metallic ting rand out, as the flattened bullet fell to the ground at the girl's feet. Her eye appearing completely undamaged where the projectile had impacted against it. Anak sighed, pushed the shaman back, and then noticed something odd. At some point, a red mark had been written on her cheek. It caused her skin to grow oddly hot, then cold, before exploding with a bright flash.

This had a somewhat greater effect.

Anak was sent flying, tumbling through the air before landing in a crumpled heap near where her companion, Hatsu, and Phalvin were currently locked in a stalemate as the swordsman found himself unable to penetrate the turtle's shell. When she stood back up, her cold expression from before was gone, replaced by the burning anger she had displayed at the conclusion of the previous round.

She turned to where her opponent stood idly, his face watching her intently. She stomped forward, raising her weapon high above her head,

The spectre of a lizard took shape behind her, as her face contorted in rage, "Green April. IGNITE!"

_This is it!_

In an instant, the green weapon grew and split into dozens of additional edges, each a different length and thickness, stretching out as if the girl were holding a tree growing in an impossibly accelerated manner, filling his vision. She swung it, the weapons sheer size covered an area large enough that even with his demonstrated speed, Aaron knew that he would not be able to dodge.

_…Is that all?_

Aaron sighed, unknowingly mirroring Lero-ro's previous reaction to the child he was fighting. Distantly, Aaron thought back to a single bud beginning to grow from the ground, his od flowing through a newly opened magic circuit. Converting it to prana, he fed the energy into the hatchet he held in his hand.

Noble Phantasms were the sublimated tools that existed as the crystallization of the legends of famous heroes and villains that had wielded them. Amongst mysteries, they were of the highest class, and generally speaking, were extraordinarily rare. Much like magecraft in general, a Noble Phantasm was something which held a greater potency the more people acknowledged it and spread it's legend. When a persons deeds became famous enough, their souls would ascend to become pseudo-deities known as Heroic Spirits. Their souls residing in an extradimensional place known as the Throne of Heroes.

In many ways, the Noble Phantasm of a Heroic Spirit was the power of the Heroic Spirit themselves. And such tools, as the crystallization of their wielders, tended to be extremely powerful, even if the legend itself were not particularly noteworthy in the wider world. Even a weak Noble Phantasm, of the lowest possible rank, was a tool far beyond the capability of a modern magus to duplicate.

Aaron's third unique trait as a magus, was that he had no real need to develop mysteries or magecraft directly suited for battle. After all, he had gone to a great deal of trouble to acquire weapons that would make such efforts pointless on his part. Why bother wasting his time, when there were a vast number of potential tools littering the American continent, just waiting to be put to use by someone worthy of wielding them?

Each Noble Phantasm which Aaron Gentles had acquired over his lifetime was a historical treasure of the Americas. And there were three which he carried with him at all times, and with which he had entered the Tower.

His hatchet glowed as his prana was fed into it, a steely glimmer lighting the air around him as the green branches of the girl's weapon approached him. He smirked, and uttered his weapon's true name.

"Timber Falls."

The edge of his axe bit into the weapon assaulting him, the sound of wood being chopped echoing as a steely flash tore through the branches of the Green April, scattering the resulting debris wildly. Noble Phantasms came in two types. Those that had passive effects, and those that required the input of prana from the user and the utterance of the Phantasms true name's to activate their abilities. Timber Falls was clearly of the latter, Aaron's modest prana investment paying dividends as the Green April's assault was abruptly halted.

* * *

The observation room was filled with a stunned silence, as the rankers took in what had just happened.

Lero-ro couldn't decide which shocked him more. The presence of the Green April, one of the legendary Thirteen Month series, in the hands of a Regular on the 2nd floor. Even if that Regular was herself a Princess of Zahard. Something of that caliber was only ever given to a Zahard Princess of distinction, long after she had proved herself an accomplished Ranker.

On the other hand, perhaps even more shocking, was the fact that a mere Regular had produced an ignition weapon which had easily overpowered the ignited state of the Green April. Those weapons were legendary creations of the blacksmith Edwaru, the greatest weaponmaker in the Tower. They were not something some anonymous nobody Regular could overpower randomly with something he had clearly pulled out of his ass.

Were they?

"Perhaps there's something to this whole 'magic' business, after all," Lero-Ro found himself muttering, as the other rankers present turned to stare at him, taking in his reaction, before they all began clamoring for an explanation from the blonde proctor.

* * *

Anak was in shock. Her world tumbling to pieces around her almost as surely as the remains of her mother's weapon. She stared numbly at the hilt in her hand, confirming that it was still living, before turning her gaze towards the freak that had appeared before her and then swept her pride aside as if it were nothing.

"…Who in the hell are you?" Her anger was gone, now, her expression numb. The beginnings of doubt and fear taking root within her soul.

Aaron bowed with a flourish of his weapon, "My name is Aaron Gentles, Ms. Anak."

The other fighters had stopped, Hatsu with his blades out, Phalvin holding some kind of a balloon, as well as Lee Soo and his two opponents. All of them turned to stare at the sharply dressed man with the hatchet.

"And I am a magus."

* * *

Inside another cell, a black haired boy noticed the hilt of the needle-like weapon he was holding begin to vibrate violently. His companions, a blue haired boy of apparently similar age, and a massive humanoid gator, paid this latest development little mind. The show in front of them simply demanded too much of their attention.

* * *

"What the hell is a magus?" Was Anak's response, "I've never heard of them before."

Aaron paused, considering the best way to answer that question. "To put it simply. A magus is someone who uses magecraft. Or magic, if you prefer."

"I said…" The girl ground out between clenched teeth, "What the hell is that!?" As she roared out her demand for answers, her own head was filled with the enraged screaming of her constant companion, and her own frustration, at the ease with which that freak had trampled upon and damaged the one thing most precious to her. Magic? What kind of bullshit was that?! A made up word didn't chop through the Green April! It was the strength that her mother had wielded! The invincible strength of one of the strongest Princesses of Zahard! No one could beat it! And no one would. A bestial scream erupted from Anak's lips as numerous stalks shot out from the Green April, attempting anew to cut down her well-dressed opponent.

"Timber Falls." Was his only response, the chopping sound once again preceding the bisection of the Green April's assault, the sound of approaching feet announcing the shaman's incoming retaliation. Anak would have none of it, charging straight at him, an ever increasing number of green stalks erupting forward to replace the ones her opponent chopped down.

She had been so focused in that brief moment on exacting her revenge that she almost didn't notice the pillar of white fire barreling towards where the two of them would meet. Anak's eyes widened in shock and recognition, her heels digging in and halting her charge, so wrapped up in her own circumstances that she was unable to see her opponent continue his more sedate pace _as the beam somehow missed him entirely._

As the light from the sudden attack subsided, Anak turned towards the beams source. Off at the edge of the arena, near the entrance of his teams cage, was the young man who had been sleeping until just a moment ago in his blanket. His arm was raised, and his palm emitting a light steam, leaving no doubt as to who had fired the attack just then.

Shock once more gave way to rage. How dare that bastard interrupt her fight. The man in the suit simply stopped in front of her, staring off at their attempted ambusher before giving off another of his wooden chuckles. "I wonder if he can get off another one in time…?"

The would be sniper's hand glowed again, gathering light, no, Shinsoo as it clearly was, as he prepared another beam to fire at the pair. Aaron pointed his hatchet to him, turning back towards Anak, "Do you want to get this annoyance out of the way first?"

The Green April stretched dangerously, new limbs still growing from it as it's wielder considered her enemies offer. Anak tensed, a scowl on her face, conflicting emotions warring over her expression, as she crouched and prepared to leap at the shinsoo user. She kicked her legs out, launching herself at the blanket wrapped sniper, only to discover that for some reason, she wasn't moving. She had somehow become frozen in mid-air, and it only took her a moment to realize the reason for this predicament.

Wrapped around her armpits and around her shoulders were the arms of Aaron Gentles, holding her aloft in a pseudo-full nelson. The girl could feel more than see his smirk, sparing a moment of confusion for why he would put himself in the middle of the path of an incoming attack, just to ensure the defeat of someone he had already been clearly winning against.

Then the beam hit her, and the only thing she was surprised about was just how _weak_ it had turned out to be. The girl twisted her neck, certain that even though she had been unscathed, her opponent would not be. After all, her mothers blood gave her a body that resisted Shinsoo far better than most people.

"A-anak!" Tracksuit roared, clearly concerned for her safety after watching the attack hit.

"Sword that flies higher than any." A sword fell through the air, audibly piercing the ground behind her. There was no way he could have dodged Hatsu's swords from that position, Anak knew of the swordsman's skills, and he would not have missed such an easy target.

So she was understandably shocked when there was no accompanying spray of wet gore as her enemy was impaled, and instead felt a cold flat object begin to press forcibly against the back of her head. The look on Hatsu's face mirrored her own dumbfounded surprise.

"How the hell are you still alive, asshole?!" The green girl hissed through clenched teeth, finally beginning to squirm and try to escape her captors grip, shock once again warring with anger, frustration, and that gnawing feeling of helplessness. The shaman behind her merely gave a low, wooden chuckle in response, the unearthly sound feeding her frustration and growing fear. A pink balloon then chose that moment to speed through the air, impacting against the back of Hatsu's head with a sharp popping noise, knocking the distracted swordsman to the side. A waxy yellow shape charged into the young man, barreling him to the ground with it's impact, it's tiny limbs flailing as it began to recklessly attack it's opponent as he lay prone on the ground.

The scene struck her as oddly surreal, when the person apparently doing the best out of their group was Ship Lee Soo, still holding off the rest of the Shinsoo users team from charging the throne and stealing their prize. Their would be sniper was also frozen, staring in blank shock at his own apparent inability to harm his two targets.

It was only then, while taking stock of the situation, that Anak idly noticed that her weapon was shaking violently in her grip.

_Resonating?!_

Instinctively, she looked off to the side, towards the opposite end of the arena, towards another holding cell, and to the team waiting inside it. Unnaturally excellent eyesight showed her the chambers occupants. There were three of them, one a massive humanoid crocodile garbed in red, a tall spear leaning against its shoulder where it sat. A shorter boy, with pale blue hair, garbed in a white shirt, black tie, matching slacks, and most noticeably, a deep blue bandanna draped under his hair, with only a corner showing on his forehead, an insignia noticeable on it, as if declaring it's owners allegiance. The third was a short black haired child, wearing a plain black long sleeved shirt, a ruffled red vest over it, and simple pair of light tan pants. In his hands was a long black needle, its cloth-bound hilt vibrating with such force that the small boy was forcibly gripping it with both his hands in an attempt to keep it still.

_The Black March…!?_

* * *

_Why did she suddenly stop?_

Phonsekal Laure was the one who had convinced his team mates, Serena and Ho, to come out this round. Confident that his Shinsoo controlling abilities would give them the necessary edge to overwhelm their opponents in this game, he had intended to wait until after the elimination of the extraneous team and then would take a shot when one pair of the opposing close quarter fighters showed enough of an opening for him to snipe them. After the elimination of the stronger fighters on the other two teams, it would be a simple matter for his team to storm the throne, and unseat the person who was on top of it, given how weak the purple sweat suit was in comparison to his own abilities.

From there, he would be able to dominate the field for the remaining three rounds with his sniping, taking out the other contenders with impunity. While it was true that the person on the throne was in a disadvantageous position for the first two rounds, given stamina concerns and the necessity to defend against people who were blindly rushing simply to unseat them, during the latter half of the game, the throne became the overwhelmingly superior defensive position.

Because after the second round of the game, the remaining players would expect that they stood a chance of holding on to the throne until the end of the fifth round.

What that implied, naturally, was that the attackers would shift from being purely focused on the enemy currently seated on the throne, to having their attention divided between the defenders and the competition. Each team that made its move in the latter half of the game would have the necessary information and confidence to take the throne and hold it until the end of the fifth round.

It went without saying that allowing a rival team to grasp the throne under such circumstances gave them an opportunity to entrench themselves, and make the rest of the game difficult for everyone else. Laure and his team were no different in that regard, they simply struck first. Laure had been confident that once they had taken the throne, there was no one present in the arena that could possibly be a threat to their hypothetical defensive position.

A confidence that Laure had now realized to be woefully misplaced.

_…What's this? Why did she suddenly stop? Is there something strange? Why has she suddenly stopped moving?_

Someone grabbed Laure's blanket from behind him, his hands reached out to grab it on instinct, which resulted in him being dragged backwards as the person ran away behind him. He looked to the side, and spotted the short black hair of his team mate, Serena.

"Wh-what are you doing, Ajumma!?" Laure called out to her.

"Isn't it obvious? We're running!" Serena's tone was thick with panic.

"What? Run? Why!?"

"You can't possibly be thinking of going against that crazy lizard and that axe maniac now, can you?! This is a bonus game! There's no need for us to throw our lives away for it!"

Laure's face twisted in annoyance, "Whether or not your life is on the line, we don't know until we try! You're giving up too quickly, Ajumma!"

Serena turned away, redoubling her speed, "Yes! Quickly! Because I'm not great or powerful like you, 80% of my life was spent just running away!" She shook her head, resolutely charging ahead, "Hundreds, no, thousands of times I've run! And because I have, I can be even more sure!"

Her objective accomplished, almost to the safety of their room, Serena's voice finally lost it's sense of urgency, "Now…Is a time to run."

Willful retreat during the game resulted in a disqualification, unfortunately, but it was ultimately a small price to pay, in Serena's eyes. The gate slammed shut behind them, as Serena finally released her grip on Laure's blanket. "This crown game…Its a really tough bonus," She panted, turning towards her other companion, "Hey, Ho, are you hurt anywhere?"

"No, I'm fine." The blonde replied, "What about you, Miss Serena?"

"Well…my legs are pretty tired from all the running, but I'm fine. Laure, are you hurt?"

The shinsoo user flopped to the ground, wrapping himself tightly in his blanket, turning it into what was, for all appearances, the world's most comfortable cocoon.

"…Laure?" When the cocoon didn't respond, Serena sighed, "It's not like he's a kid…"

* * *

"Anak! Hey, Anak!" Lee Soo shouted, trying to grab the lizard girl's attention, "Anak! What's wrong?! You've still got a problem on your hands! Answer me! Hey, Anak!"

The girl's body suddenly grew extremely tense, as she began slowly prying herself out of her blonde captors grip. The man behind her readjusted his grip, preparing to drive his stone knife into her neck, before the limbs of her weapon lashed out, sweeping his legs out from under him. He didn't matter, not right now. Not compared to _this_.

"Anak!" Lee Soo continued to call out.

Anak stared at that same spot, her toes gripped the floor, breaking the ground beneath her feet. Her enemy looked annoyed, but simply took a swing in response, as if he had decided that he had had enough of her. That was fine, she was done playing with him too. Aaron's blow never landed, as Anak shot herself across the arena in a single leap, slamming into a cage at the far side of the arena. Time to get down to business.

"Wh…what are you doing?! Anak!"

The scream of metal being ripped apart tore through the air, and the lizard girl stood before her new targets, weapon held aloft, and a cold glare leveled at the one holding her prize.

"That weapon…"

* * *

"Hand it over."

The young girl stands in the wreckage of the metallic gate that had separated them from the game only moments before. Her level stare left no room for argument. And it was aimed squarely at his newfound friend.

That would not do. Not at all.

Koon Aguero Agnis grasps a carving knife from within his brown suitcase, and stood, irritation twisting his pale, serpentine features. His azure eyes narrow, hostility rising to match the attackers own. To his side, a massive shadow rose, it's owner levels a spear silently in response to this latest provocation. The massive gator, much like himself, was tense.

They had been observing the battle, after all. The lizard girl was a monster wielding a Thirteen Month series. Koon held no doubt in his mind if it were not for that faceless freak, she would have been easily able to dominate the game from where that goby now languished on the throne. Both were probably the strongest competition he and his team would be facing, and one of them was now directing all of her hostility at his naive friend, Baam.

"What do you think you're doing?" He shouts, brandishing his knife, "Entering another team's room during the game is strictly forbidden!"

The lizard girl's eyes narrow, focusing with a cold intensity on the dark haired team mate of Koon and that gator, Rak Wreckraiser, where he's crouching on the floor behind them.

"Hey," Her voices rings out, it's sharpness holding the brittle keenness of shattered glass, "Black hair. How did you get that weapon?"

Baam begins to stand up as the girl addresses him, her grip switching on the Green April to directing it's business end behind her.

"…Huh? We…weapon?" Koon's friend answers, his voice hesitant, uncertain in the face of the girl's aggression. Koon spares the boy's hand a glance, noticing that even as he holds his own weapon, the Black March at the ready, his grip is as shaky and uncertain as the way he speaks.

"That weapon." The monstrous child replies instantly, her hand raising to point at the ebony weapon in the boy's hand, "That needle you're holding now. How did you get it?"

_She's ignoring me?! Wait. By needle…does she mean the Black March_? Koon spares another glance to his side, as Baam rises to his full height, moving to stand next to him, _That lizard…How did she manage to notice the Black March?!_

"But…Why are you asking this?" Koon hears from his friend say, as his focus returns to the immediate threat. Baam's is still soft, but it carries a hint of tension in it, and the white haired youth feels himself relax an almost imperceptible amount.

The girl's eyebrows raise in condescension, "That needle is something you mustn't have."

"HEEEEEEEEEEEEY! ANAK!" A rough, unpleasant sound cuts through the air, as the purple tracksuit dashes towards them, his face red from the exertion. Koon feels himself snort in derision as he listens to the man's breathes ring out like a bellows, "How could you just run off in the middle of a fight like that?! What are you doing!?"

The girl doesn't spare her approaching teammate a glance, her focus remaining entirely on the child behind him. But tracksuit clearly wasn't one to be ignored, grabbing her shoulder, "Going into another teams room means disqualification! We fail!"

"If you don't want to say, that's fine."

"Because of you, our team failed! Anak!"

"But." Koon feels the atmosphere turn chilly, the girl in front of them oozing killing intent, her voice turning as hard as stone, "Hand over that weapon, Black Hair." Her chin tilts up, her expression filled with a detached contempt, as tracksuit leaned a freckled head over his shorter companion.

"…Weapon?" He intoned, a raised eyebrow indicating his curiosity as he too noticed the black needle that had drawn his teammate's attention. His eyes narrowed, his expression turning furious, "Hey! Anak! You couldn't possibly have come down here to steal that lousy weapon!? Right!?"

Koon felt a twinge of satisfaction, noting the way that the attackers expression twisted in pain as her teammate screamed into her ear with all his strength. He almost felt sorry for the guy, knowing what would come next.

"Lousy weapon?" The green girl intoned, her eyes widened in mock surprise as she concentrated her attack on tracksuit's index finger, pinching and raising it slowly, "You're calling one of the 13 weapons, the Black March," she continued, speaking over her teammates squeals of pain, "Crafted by Edwaru, lousy? Are you insane?"

"Bl…Black March?" Was the man's reply, his eyes watering from the repercussion of his actions, "The Blacksmith Edwaru's 13 Month Series weapon…The weapon that's given to the daughter of the King…That…" His eyes opened wide, the expression having nothing to do with the agony that he was experiencing, "BLACK MARCH?!" His voice rose to a disbelieving shout that carried clear across the arena, "Why does he have that?! And how do you even know that?!"

The young girl in front of him never takes her eyes off Baam, even as her teammate continues his diatribe, "That's because," her flat tone unchanging, "I am Zahard's daughter."

_A Princess of Zahard, huh?_ Koon thinks to himself, _I figured as much. That level of strength and that weapon aren't something you'd find on anyone else._ His eyes narrow, the blue haired youth's thoughts replaying over the fights he had witnessed.

_It explains everything, pretty much. Why she has such strength despite being only a Regular on the Floor of Test, and her being able to use the Green April on top of that…But something is off about this situation. Even taking into account that she's a Princess, what's a Princess on the Second Floor doing with the Green April? Her speed and strength are incredible, given what it must take to use that weapon in it's ignited state. And yet something still seems off…_

Koon's eyes narrow, as he watches tracksuit have a spastic fit at the revelation by his teammate, _But that's not half as strange as that guy in the suit. He's definitely strong…_ His mind wanders, remembering the various deadlocks that the green girl…Princess had had with her opponent during their duels, _But not as strong as she is. Nor as fast._ He replays the man's feats from memory, the odd drawings he used, and his own ignition weapon that had proved capable of damaging the Green April's ignited state, _What did he do, exactly? Her being a Princess explains how she'd be able to recognize the Black March from that position, and a number of other things, so she's likely telling the truth. And she is clearly using the Green April…_

The towering form of his reptilian teammate lets out a snort, and Koon is brought back from his reverie as that green girl's other teammate, the swordsman arrives on the scene, sporting a black eye, indicating the result of his own match.

"Although you probably know," She begins, resuming the conversation where it left off, "This weapon's name is Green April", the Princess of Zahard lifts up the hilt of her weapon, her gaze drifting to it as she looks away from Baam for the first time since the conversation had started, "Like the Black March you are holding, this is one of the 13 Month series. When weapons of the 13 Month series meet, they resonate. You felt it too, right?"

It really wasn't a question, but Koon glanced at Baam as he responded, "Yes…A bit…"

"Anyway," The shorter girl continued, as if he hadn't spoken, "That weapon must not be held by anyone other than one of Zahard's daughters." Koon narrowed his eyes, easily picking up on the direction the girl in front of him was going, "Here," She intoned flatly, raising her empty hand up, "Now that you know, hand over the Black March. You do not have the right to hold that weapon."

"No." Comes his friend's immediate response, "I will not hand over the Black March. This weapon was lent to me by Yuri-Noona, therefore I can not give it to anyone other than Yuri-Noona." Koon feels more than sees the change in the way that the girl is regarding his friend. What had just moments before been an air of contempt swiftly shifted gears into a cold intent to kill.

She lets out a small chuckle, the atmosphere around her shifting as the Green April once again begins growing shoots, dividing itself, reminding Koon that the entire time the legendary weapon had remained in it's ignited state. The Princess before him lowers her head, both hands gripping her tool overhead, her expression shifting to one of grim amusement, "Even though I explained…It seems you need to be taught where you stand."

_Dammit!_ Koon curses inwardly, raising his briefcase in front of him as an impromptu shield. _If she attacks us like this, there's nothing we can do!_

"Mother always told me," Her voice taking on a sing-song quality, "Those that don't know their place…" Koon watches out of the corner of his eye, as his teammates prepare themselves for the oncoming fight. The Gato lowering his spear into a ready stance, Baam raising the Black March before him as a hopelessly narrow shield with which to protect himself.

"…All die early." Her expression slides back into cold impassiveness, bereft of any emotion as she raises her weapon on high, "Die."

A black gloved hand reaches out, grabbing the business end of the Green April where the girl had it held above her, the Princesses face twists in confusion as she finds herself unable to swing it down and commit her execution. Her confusion twists in frustration as she strains against the force opposing her strength, finding it immutable.

Her eyes snap open, anger setting in, as her eyes shift to gaze behind her for the first time since breaking into Koon and his teammates cell, "Hey! What do you think you're…" Her head turns, as she gazes upon the would-be interloper, her head tilting back as she gets a better look at Lero-Ro standing behind her impassively, one hand gripping the legendary weapon and holding it in place with ease.

"It seems the only one who truly doesn't know their place is you," The blonde ranker intones, the green girl's teammates looking on in shock, "Anak Zahard." Even from where he was standing, Koon notices the girl's mouth part in childlike wonder, "Since you abandoned the fight for the crown and retreated into a room, your team is disqualified. Return to your room, Anak Zahard." The Proctors face twists in annoyance, radiating displeasure from high above the Princess.

"I will not forgive any further misbehavior." His gloved hand releases the weapon, the apparently unexpected action causing the girl, Anak, to pitch forward. Recovering her balance, she stares at the Ranker sidelong, the tracksuit apparently beginning to panic.

"An…Anak! Don't do it! He's mad!"

Her shoulders slump in a childish pout, sighing, "Guess I have no choice. I understand." A brief moment of silence, before she levels a glare at Baam, to his friend's credit, Baam returns the expression with equal intensity. Instantly, Anak's expression slides back into childish curiosity, "Um…testing Ajussi," The blonde Ranker's expression visibly twitches at the unkind way of means of address.

"…Yes?"

"In this game," Anak continues, her expression remaining calm, "Would it be possible to add a new rule?"

Ro's previous expression of annoyance vanishes, his hand rising to cup his chin as his curiosity is piqued. "A new rule?"

"Yes." Anak continues, her voice taking on a lilting, childish innocence, "As the Test Proctor, I believe that according to your judgment, the rules can be changed…"

The proctor's's eyebrow quirks up, "Well…that is true." He pauses, considering, "That is true, but what kind of rule do you propose to add?"

Anak holds her weapon out to him in response, "A super event, where the Green April and Black March are wagered on." Koon's eyes narrow, watching the girl's expression remain studiously blank, taking in the absurdity of the proposal.

Koon isn't even slightly surprised as Lero-ro's face twitches, his lips curling into an amused smirk, "That…sounds rather fun."

Apparently satisfied, the Princess turns back towards Koon's friend, "You…was your name Baam? Let's make a bet."

"A bet?!"

Anak nods, "Yes. I will wager my Green April," she holds up her weapon to emphasize what she's referring to, "I will wager my Green April, and you will wager your Black March. If you win…" And at this, she holds the green hook out to him, "I will give this Green April to you." Baam's expression shifts into blank shock, taking in the absurdity of the terms.

"The bet's simple," Anak continues, "In the next round, your team participates. If you can unseat that faceless bastard's team and hold onto the crown by the end of the fifth round, you win the bet." Koon begins to feel a smirk forming at the given terms, "If you win, I will give you my Green April, and until this Regular's test ends, I will not target your Black March. But if you do not win," The girl's head tilts, her voice one again regaining it's brittle edge, "Hand over the Black March to me."

Baam's face twists in anger, "I refuse! Why would I accept such a bet?"

Anak's face remains blank, her tone flat, "Because once this game ends. I plan on taking the Black March even if it means killing you." Koon looks her over.

_She's serious._

"Rather than having the Black March taken from you, wouldn't it be more advantageous to take the deal? Well, if you don't want to, that's fine." Baam's face twists in concentration, considering, "What are you pondering about, hm?" Anak's voice returns to it's innocent sing song tone, a smile forming, "Could it be that you're not confident about your chances of winning this game?"

_Oh. This bitch._

Anak's eyes narrow, her head tilting back in condescension, "Well…I understand. With weaklings like those as your teammates…" Koon feels himself twitch at the blatant provocation, the Gator clearly growing annoyed as well, "It would be difficult to win this game." Koon looks towards his friend, watching as his expression becomes downcast.

_He's like an open book. Heh._

"What are you hesitating for?! Baam!" Koon shouts at the top of his lungs, snapping his friend out of his unneeded hesitation, "Of course you should accept it!" Koon levels a stare at the girl before him, "This bet, I accept!"

"Mr…Mr. Koon!" Baam begins, hesitation creeping into his voice.

So Koon cuts him off. "It's fine!" He feels a smirk forming, and let's it grow. "We were going to go out in the next round anyway!" His confidence radiating in an aura of smugness, Koon adjusts his tie, looking down on the shorter girl in front of him, "Did you say your name was Anak Zahard?" He turns towards her, his weapons withdrawn, his posture all business, "It seems you don't know any better since you're just a side character, but protagonists need to come out a little bit late. ISN'T THAT RIGHT, GUYS?!"

_Might as well make a show of it._

"GATOR?!"

A loud roar pierces the arena, a bestial sound that carries the undeniable authority of the hunter, their teams resident meat tank announces his presence, and in the entire arena, there are none that miss it.

"OF COURSE!" His maw opens wide, and Koon's eyes close in smug satisfaction, "A GAME WITHOUT ME…" The air shakes with the force of his voice, "IS A GAME NOT WORTH WINNING!"

The monster looks down at the diminutive lizard before them, who had dared to challenge their team, and had made the mistake of placing such a valuable treasure on the line. Rak Wreckraiser's dull red pupil rolls down, a single eye glaring at the green child standing before him. "Do not be so cocky." their prey grins in response, ignorant of how grossly mistaken she had been to provoke the beings in front of her.

"Stupid lizard."

* * *

_Author Notes: To ToG fans, I'm sorry. Really threw around of weird terms out there. But they'll get explained eventually. This just really isn't the right situation for massive infodumps to interrupt the flow of the story. To Anak fans...Meh._

_To Nasuverse fans: I know what I'm doing. There's a story behind the NP that Aaron used, and his three traits as a Magus will be revealed later on as the season goes. But the Crown Game really isnt the time for a bunch of exposition, so I'll get to the nitty gritty later._

_Although what Ill do may wind up considered as anathema to it anyway_

_Thanks again for reading! And now I have to go and struggle with how to translate Rak's awesomeness into words. Feel free to drop criticisms, lavish praise, or suggestions in the review section or my PM box, so until next time, see you then!_


	7. Chapter 7

**Tower of Glorious Bastards**

**Chapter 7**

**Crown Game (3)**

* * *

"Do not be so cocky…Stupid lizard."

_Ah._ He smiled to himself, _That's a good response._

Lero-ro felt that smile begin to twist itself into a benign smirk, let it, and rested a hand on the shoulder of that diminutive Princess, Anak Zahard.

"Fine," the lizard child looked up at him as he spoke, reaching up in order to squeeze down on the resting hand as it did so, "I agree to adding a new rule. Baam's team will participate from the next round, and if they are successful in taking and holding on to the crown before the end of the game, Miss Anak's Green April becomes Baam's. And until the Regulars' testing comes to an end, Miss Anak is prohibited from attempting to steal the Black March. However, if Baam's team fails to succeed in this, then Baam's Black March shall become Anak's." Ro paused, his face turning serious as he pointed to each of the Regulars in turn, finger throbbing, "Therefore, as Miss Anak's team is still disqualified, the next round shall begin with Mister Parakewl's team remaining as the advancing winner.

'Now then," Lero-ro turned, his smirk returning, "Let's get the game rolling again, everyone." And with his back turned towards the assembled Regulars behind him, he paused to direct a knowing smirk at the bait that had been so kind as to present itself.

_Seems like this Crown Game…_ He thought, as he began to return to the viewing room, _Will become the greatest Crown Game in history._

* * *

Said bait had been listening to the conversation in the far off cage.

And his empowered eyesight had seen the parting smirk that the Ranker had turned towards him at the end of the negotiation.

_That bastard…_ Aaron's thoughts churned in grim annoyance, _How dare he act as if all of this was only for his own amusement._

Intellectually, the magus understood that for a being of Lero-ro's probable power, this game really _was_ just another means of passing the time. Even so, his pride as a practitioner of Thaumaturgy was rankled just the same by the Ranker's incredibly casual dismissal of him.

Again.

Aaron took stock of his options. Gave it some thought, and then realized that as annoying as this "bet" was, it ultimately didn't matter.

_All I have to do, really, is just kill them all._ The shaman's shoulders visibly relaxed, the tension bleeding out from them. His face cracked, forming a predatory grin.

_Let them come._

* * *

The disqualified team of Ship Lee Soo, Hatsu, and Anak Zahard retreated to their own room, Anak's prize secured. There was no way that the other three would be able to hold on to the Crown by the end of the fifth round. She had seen it herself;

That faceless bastard's strength was the real deal.

Not that it really mattered. Even if by some fluke they had won, Anak would simply take the Black March from the kid later on.

It was hers. Her _right_. So Anak focused ahead, her gaze level, even as she passed by another cell, a hooded face leaning up against the bars.

_…What?_

She glanced to her side, noticing something…familiar about the figure that was staring at her from within it's waiting room. The person's feminine face peered back at her impishly, her features inquisitive, appraising.

"….."

_What?!_

The hooded girl smirked.

"….."

_This bitch!_

The figures words that were unheard to anyone else, drove Anak into a blind fury. Her grip on the Green April tightened further, as she prepared to charge at that ghosty eyeball woman. Her focus solely on her intent to pound in her made-up features.

A blade rose up to Anak's neck, dull side held against her throat. She glanced down in surprise, her anger evaporating into thin air.

"Ha…Hatsu!?" Lee Soo shouted, "Wh…What are you doing?!"

The would-be samurai ignored his other teammate, and leveled a cold glare at her. "Do not commit any further acts that would bring harm to the team." He threatened, "Anak Zahard."

She cocked a disbelieving eyebrow at the swordsman, pushing his sword away, "What team." Anak continued walking, ignoring Lee Soo's protests.

_It's not like those guys matter, anyway._

* * *

Smirking, the attractive girl watched as the little fake walked off in a huff.

"Entertained?" A low, nasally voice rang out from behind her.

"Well…" She paused, before turning to face her companions, her golden heels clacking loudly against the floor, "Umm…" She gave it some thought, stretching her arms as she did so, "Shall we get ready?"

Her confidence spoke for itself.

* * *

"I'm sorry…" Koon turns, adjusting his tie as he hears Baam speak up, "Because of me…" His friend's gaze drifts downward, despondent, "You both got involved, even though I can't do anything."

Koon turns towards him, a smile on his face, "Don't worry Baam. Thanks to you, we've managed to drag that lizard off the game field. Baam. You're really amazing as well." Baam's face turns up, confused, "Even in front of Zahard's daughter, you didn't hand over the Black March…Honestly, I'm a bit surprised."

Baam's face turns downward again, this time, a reminiscent smile spreading on his face, "It's…nothing great. It's only because both of you were here that I could do that. Plus…" The black haired boys hand grips the weapon in his hand tightly, "Since I'm already indebted to Black March…" His expression softens, the smile growing in fond remembrance of something, "I didn't want to betray her…Since I've been taught that if I betray a woman, then the world's ceiling will collapse."

Koon's expression freezes, sliding back into cold neutrality.

_You must never trust another._

"…." Koon blinks, _What an irritating memory._

"But the fact that you have no strength to defend the Black March is unchanged. In short, your actions were a baseless bluff." Baam's face turns red, twisting in embarrassment, "Now that I think about it, I wonder what you trusted so much to make such decisions. And that big, stupid alligator has limited uses in comparison to his size." Koon sighs as he looks upward, "But still…you're amazing."

"…Huh?"

"Even though you're not strong, and even though you've got nothing to trust, you will still try to protect those that trust in you." He turns, staring at the black haired child in front of him, "I could never do that." He says with a smile.

"WE WILL NOW BEGIN ROUND 3 OF THE CROWN GAME!" Lero-ro's voice cuts through, ending the moment, "Those participating, please press the buzzer before the count ends! One!"

"Then, shall we go?"

"Two! Three!"

Koon steps forward, as his expression changes to a confident smirk, signaling his shift into his own battle mode, "To take the throne…"

"Four!"

The Gator and Baam follow behind, as Koon withdraws a knife from the briefcase in his hand.

"Five!"

The gate to their room opens, the bars rising to give them access to the larger arena.

"The Crown Game, Round 3! Begins now!"

* * *

Aaron Gentles smirked at the now-familiar sound of the cages clanging open, signaling the beginning of the round. His gaze flickered, taking stock of the teams coming out this time.

_So there's four of them this time, huh?_

The first team that grabbed his attention was almost as forgettable as the cannon fodder team from the first round, consisting of a stocky middle aged man dressed in black pants and a white shirt with a bullseye splashed directly on the center of his torso, [i]Ha[/i], a solemn, tallish conehead of a man with khaki-colored skin, dressed in a red vest and brown kilt. This one was equipped with a spear and held an expression so focused that Aaron found himself wondering what it was he was so stressed out about.

O_h, right._

The last member of that intrepid trio, and clearly the leader by the way she strode ahead of the other two, was a tallish woman in a well-cut one piece dress, wearing a confident smirk and holding some kind of toy wand.

_Probably isn't a toy, though._

Committing the woman to memory, Aaron's gaze turned towards the next team, which consisted of some kind of humongous shapeless black mass of a creature with marks of white near the top that could function as perhaps an eye and a mouth, given it's shape. The next tallest member of the group was a dark brown four-eyed freak of a swordsman, who was naked from the waste up and probably was as forgettable as he looked. And the final member was a pale midget in a green cape holding a…

_They have guns here? And a sniper rifle at that…That seems…Strangely functional._

Aaron really couldn't help but be amazed out how prepared some of these "Regulars" had been when they had been selected to enter the Tower. The inclusion of a sniper rifle of all things in a setting where everyone had been fighting with either supernatural abilities or traditional melee weapons was enough to throw the man off his stride. It was almost unsettling, as if he had overlooked something critical in his analysis thus far. Some kind of hidden depth that he had yet to plumb. A fatal underestimation of some sort. The unexpected unknown.

Pushing the thought from his mind, Aaron focused on the third team, as colorful as the last one. This one consisted of an extremely pale young man dressed in a purple shirt over a red undershirt. His standout features being his red bandanna matching his red pupils, and the similarly colored short red club he kept sheathed on his back. The next one was a large, broad muscular creature, tan skinned with a duskier red hair and set of eyes, this time oddly matching the pair of demonic-looking wings sprouting from his back. On one of his shoulders was perched the last member of their team, some kind of horned little squirrel pixie thing, with an annoying smirk and soulless black eyes. If Aaron hadn't been watching out for the subjects of the bet, he would have bet decent money that this team would be the one to give him the most trouble. As a matter of fact, he felt that they were the only trio of the remaining three teams that would even be able to put up a fight.

And so, Aaron turned to take a good look at the fourth and final team that had decided to enter the fray this time around. They were definitely the team he had observed during Lero-ro's test, lead by the kid with the incredibly pale blue hair, his hair now done up in a crude ponytail with his bandanna, knife in one hand, and a briefcase in the other. The massive form of the gator creature, his leather tunic and fluttering red cape. He was holding a red spear that was as tall as he was, and wore an expression of utmost ferocity. Flanking them was the anomaly. The black haired child that had been immune to the Rankers Shinsoo wall during his test, and the one whose weapon, the Black March, had interrupted his fight with the lizard girl. And was the focus of the annoying bet that the Ranker had agreed to.

_Well, that's fine,_ Aaron felt his smirk grow, _Won't be much of a bet, then._ His hand raised up, holding his pistol once again, aimed at the boy whose golden eyes reminded him of a deer caught in the headlights of an approaching vehicle.

_Funny, it'll probably end the same way, too._

And then a bright flash obscured his vision, a thundering boom assaulted his hearing, and he found himself needing to parry a knife that had come far, far too close to slicing into his exposed jugular.

* * *

Koon Ageuro Agnis was wondering just what it was that allowed this faceless guy to hold his own against a Zahard's Princess. He was barely able to react to Koon's charge, as impressive as that was, but it wasn't anything special.

"Hey, guys!" He calls to the three other teams that had entered the arena, "Me and the Gator will hold off this hatchet bastard! You guys take the crown! We'll settle this next round, alright?!"

The assembled extras roar their approval, as the larger number of them dash at the throne in the center of the arena. Koon's attention returns to his opponent, prompted by the faceless bastards wooden chuckle, as a red glow surrounds the throne in response to the other teams charge.

_Let's see what happens._

* * *

Safely returned to their own chamber for the moment, Ship Lee Soo turned his gaze out towards the ensuing battle from in between the bars of his temporary prison.

"Hmm…That Koon guy is quite smart!" Lee Soo exclaimed out loud, "He's more than fast enough to have charged straight to the throne or at the turtle unimpeded, but it looks like he's the only one suspicious of what that blonde guy did when he drew that circle around the throne at the end of the first round! Not only that, but he created a situation where people would wind up ignoring the weakest person on his team, Baam! By holding up the blonde guy, he's allowing the other 10 competitors to focus on the blonde guys team mates! No matter how strong they are, there's no way they'll be able to handle those odds. And since there's no way that they left the throne undefended, that means that he'll be cutting down the number of competitors when they trigger the blonde guys trap as well!

'This results in the blonde guys team being disqualified, while also allowing them to control the fighting, while also allowing Koon to create a situation where Baam winds up being the one to sit on the throne. It's a thoroughly calculated move on his part." Lee Soo's expression grows serious, "But even then, that requires that Koon and the Gator are able to not only hold off the team that fought ours to a standstill, but that they also immediately subdue the other teams right in the middle of that. Are they really strong enough to do all that while also covering up for Baam's weakness at the same time?" He paused, waiting for a response.

"Hey Hatsu, Anak, what do you guys think?" He turned around, only to find that neither one of them were paying him any attention.

"Hahahaha…"

_I really shouldn't be worrying about them…when our team's falling apart…_

* * *

"Can you really hold me off, kid?" Aaron responds to the child in front of him, "You may be fast, but your attacks lack strength," The shaman holds the wooden shaft of Timber Falls against the kid's dagger in a deadlock, as the shaman's pistol vanishes into thin air, replaced by his familiar obsidian dagger. He stabs down with it, intending to plunge the weapon into the shoulder of the shorter kid. It's met by the kid's briefcase, the unexpected durability of which turns it aside harmlessly.

Inside of his head, alarms go off, alerting the shaman to the activation of his trap. His smirk grows, as the dull red light of his runic array shines brightly. Elder Futhark was not only one of the most widespread and oldest of the runic alphabets, but it was also well known to have had many spells associated with it. The most famous example of this being an ancient necklace that had been inscribed with a charm to protect a pregnant mother during childbirth.

The widespread knowledge of the charm's existence, combined with how widespread the language and its derivatives were, were probably the single best bet for thaumaturgical rules being able to reach into the Tower through the Reality Marble of the World, Gaia. Aaron had painted the runes for the charm with color crimson, indicating violence and bloodshed. The array activated, as the majority of the other teams ran into the glowing red circle.

When one thought of what exactly a charm for safe childbirth actually indicated, one realizes that the charm was not so much about enabling the mother to resist damage from the strain of childbirth, but the swift expulsion of the child from the womb without harm to either party. By designating the target for protection, Parakewl, as the "mother" in the center of the array, the twisted meaning of the charm shifted from "expelling the child without incident" to "expelling foreign elements with needlessly excessive violence".

Five figures ran into the circle. It flashed brightly, and five figures were hurled with brutal force into the distant walls of the arena. Five sickening crunches echoed throughout the chamber, and five figures slumped to the floor, lifeless.

What that left were, the red haired pair from before, the winged one taking a boxing stance as bandanna withdrew his club, the blonde woman with the pink dress, as she held her wand aloft, aiming it at the shaman. And lastly, the midget with the sniper rifle, who wore an expression of blank shock.

His expression confident, Aaron turned towards where the massive form of the Caped Gator stood, squaring off silently against his opponent. Phalvin, for his part, was trembling violently, his gaze shifting back and forth between the enemy towering before him, and Aaron himself. The shaman decided to let the turtle handle himself for the moment, while he slowly backed away from the…white haired kid, now that he looked at it a little more closely.

Aaron let himself chuckle a little bit at the kid's calm expression, his only reaction to the charm having been to narrow his eyes, "So, kid, what do you think?"

* * *

_I think that you're not nearly as smart as you think you are._ Was the response that Koon kept to himself. The only reply he gave to the hatchet-wielder was to step back, disengage from the fight, and then drop his knife dramatically as he turned towards the remaining Regulars with contempt.

"Maaaaan, what a bunch of useless fodder you all are." Koon sighs, as he raises his palm to his face, "You could _at least_ have busted through that guys trap, right? Whatever. Side characters like yourselves…" Koon pauses, as he reaches down in order to pick up his knife from the ground, "Should just disappear."

He watches the four remaining as their faces twist in anger, smirks tauntingly as they all stare at one another in unspoken agreement, and the faceless bastard rests his hatchet on his shoulder. The Gator notices the change in the atmosphere, as turning towards the remaining fodder as the turtle disengages as well.

_Now that I know that I can't use these guys to just break through his trap, I guess I'll just have to keep them from getting in my way_.

"Fight among yourselves. I'll allow the winner to work with us to take these guys down and then take the crown." Koon points his knife at each of the four in turn, "It's pretty simple, right? I don't want any weaklings dragging me down against someone who could fight back against a Princess of Zahard."

Baam turns to his teammate in shock, wonder and amazement plain on his features. _Sorry, Baam. Your friend is a devil. Now then…Faceless bastard, it's time to show you just who it is that you're standing in the way of._

* * *

_Who does this kid think he is, anyway_? Aaron Gentles thought to himself, continuing to chuckle at whatever the blue kid was attempting to accomplish. _Idiots just gonna provoke them with his posturing._

The shaman relaxed, his arms drop to his sides, letting the inevitable happen. The pink-dress, sniper midget, and twin reds turned towards the blue kid and his black haired companion, their expressions livid. With frightening coordination, the two bruisers charged towards forward, as the woman and sniper retreated to take a position better suited for their fighting styles. The midget shouts at the top of his lungs as runs back, rifle held at the ready, "Oi! Everyone! Let's make a temporary truce until we crush that white haired kid!" The other three grunt their agreement, and their team falls into place.

The woman raises her wand back like a fisherman casting a line, readying it for an attack, while the cloaked sniper locates a random pillow on the ground and slides next to it, propping his rifle up, establishing his position. The white haired kid nods, smirking to himself, "I bet that winged fatty is going to go after that blonde guy over there,"

The response from the four is eerily synchronized, "SHUT UP! We'll fight among ourselves after we destroy you!"

The kid's smirk, if anything, becomes even more smug, "Oh really? That's quite unfortunate," He idly taps the side of his knife against briefcase, "Fighting among yourselves might have been more fun since you're all about equal in level." As if his words were a signal, the gator steps away from Phalvin, and moves to come between the remaining Regulars and the black haired kid, "You really play boring games."

The white haired kid takes a stance, facing towards his opponents, as his towering teammate hefts his spear up, at the ready. The six of them stare at one another, as the white haired instigator's expression grows more and more relaxed, even in the face of the presumably mounting pressure.

"What, aren't you coming? Bring it." His words act as a trigger, and the red-winged fatty and red-bandanna charge forward, the Gator roaring in joy at the commencement of hostilities. The midget opens by opening fire on the instigator, only for him to almost casually block the bullets with his briefcase. His skill standing out even more as he smoothly shifted his posture to block a strike from red-bandanna's club, which had mysteriously more than doubled in size. His expression never once shifted from the confident smirk he'd worn since he first started provoking the surviving Regulars.

Aaron's attention is drawn away at a loud thud echoing out, red-winged fatty having chosen to engage the spear wielding gator with a clumsy boxing stance. Red-fatty apparently had some strength to him, as the Gator was forced back from the blocked punch. With a terrible roar, the creature shoved his opponent back.

The winged redhead skidded backwards, barely maintaining his posture, as the towering Gator twirled his spear, brown cloak billowing, "KUHAHAHAHA! Turtle! Looks like you'll make for a decent hunt after all!" He stomped forward, throwing himself with a terrible ferocity at the unarmed man before him. The air around the monster tore, it's red spear sweeping towards it's victim. The smaller man doubled over as the shaft of the spear impacted into his torso, sending him tumbling through the air. Flapping his wings furiously to control his flight, the stocky creature landed roughly on his feet with a loud gasp, his eyes wide and panicked as he glanced around with the air of a cornered animal desperate to keep it's predator in sight.

The Gator had not so much as moved during the brief few seconds of his opponent's acrobatics, as if courteously waiting for him to compose himself before continuing. One reptilian limb stalked out through the Gator's red tunic, followed by another, as it slowly strode forward. It exuded confidence with it's every gesture, it's composure never wavering once during the entire fight. Within moments the monster crossed the distance between itself and it's prey, the smaller creature sweating fiercely, panting from exhaustion brought on by the exchange. The taller creature looked down, showing no signs of even the slightest exertion.

"Perhaps I spoke too soon."

It's partner, meanwhile, was undergoing a significantly better workout, even if his dominance was just as pronounced. For every clumsy swing red-bandanna took at the white haired boy, he used his unnatural speed and agility to easily dodge it while dexterously blocking the potshots from the midget sniper. The only disadvantage that seemed to affect him was the short reach of his knife, something which the club wielder attempted to use to his advantage as he moved to position the white haired boy between himself and his supporting fire. The effort paid off, as the child was forced to commit to an awkward dodge in order to block the sniper fire, giving red-bandanna a perfect opening to swipe at him with his club without the danger of a counterattack.

The attack was interrupted mid-swing, a long sword piercing the bandanna-wearing youth's shoulder. The club-user stared in shock at the significantly longer blade that the white haired boy was holding, before dropping to his knees, blade sliding out from him as he did so. He looked up, confusion plain on his face, as the white haired boy gave him a smirk. He raised his briefcase up, shook it slightly, and a large number of blades tumbled out from within it, all of different shapes and sizes, but each one appearing to be variations of that same short knife that he had originally equipped himself with.

"Annarasumanara~The entertaining and amazing~Magical Cloning Bag!"

As the cloned blades began to vanish, so too did bandanna's consciousness swiftly follow.

Further off, the pink dress woman's face contorted into a grimace as her two temporary companions fell, "Th…these bastards…Rush them!" Her arm whips forward, her wand shining a blinding white as it points at the black haired child.

"First take out the easy one!" The sniper responds, firing off a shot towards that kid, Baam.

"Baam?!" His companion shouts out in surprise, as the bullet impacts against some kind of unseen force, visibly grinding away into nothingness. In the same instant, the light in the woman's wand vanishes abruptly, both attackers suddenly stilled by an unknown power.

The white haired kid charges forward in the opening, smashing his briefcase into the woman's face, eliciting a satisfying crunch from the impact.

The massive gator turns towards the armed midget, "DO NOT MESS WITH ME, CHOCOBAR!" He hurls his red spear with such force that it transforms into a crimson blur of light, shooting past the pale sniper, his weapon dismantled in the attacks passing. "Hmph," The gator snorts, tilting it's head back, "NEVER TOUCH MY PREY! YOU STUPID TURTLES!" It's voice reverberates through the arena, causing the black haired child, Baam to flinch, "Worthless turtles, not even as good as a softshell! Hahahahaha!"

The gator flinched, it's gaze shifting towards the turtle, Phalvin, who had been standing near Aaron. The shaman's team mate had been watching the fight unfold, and was beginning to tremble in both fear and…something else. The giant lizard's face curled into something resembling a toothy smirk, turning towards the walking turtle with an impatient snort, spear at the ready. He took a step towards his target, before walking against his white haired companions outstretched hand.

"What is it, scamming turtle?"

The boy shakes his head, before turning towards Aaron Gentles, "My name is Koon Aguero Agnis, whoever you are. Well, I don't really need the name of a side character such as yourself, just go ahead and stand there patiently like the slack jawed dimwit you are, me and my companions will be coming for the crown next round."

The wood-faced man simply shrugged nonchalantly, his face blank.

The minutes passed in silence as the two teams stared at one another.

"AAAAAAAAAND TEN MINUTES HAVE NOW ELAPSED!" Lero-ro's voice echoed through the arena, "And with the defending team still on the throne at the end of the Third Round, there will be one confirmed advancing team! The surviving team will be given priority placement in joining subsequent rounds!"

The sound of cages opening rings out, and a number of animatronic pink elephant figures begin hovering into the arena, picking up the vanquished, loading them onto stretchers, and carrying them out for medical treatment. The white haired child, black haired child, and gator then return to their own waiting room, doubtlessly resting before coming out again to fight in the fourth round as well.

* * *

Aaron watches as Koon and his team retreat at the end of the round, his eyes never leaving their backs until the gate slams down, sealing them in.

"GENTLES! What was that?!" Parakewl squawks from the throne, his erstwhile disciple turns in answer,

"That, Master, was my magic. Just a small demonstration." The Gobyfuhai turned to regard the shaman, his expression turning from shocked to painfully smug satisfaction.

"As expected from my disciple," He declared simply, making a wide sweeping gesture as he did so, "Now, go forth Gentles, secure my passage to the next floor. Kukukuku."

The forgotten turtle walks towards his well dressed team mate, "Yo, Gentles…I gotta request."

Aaron simply looked down on him, "What?"

Phalvin looked up, his comically wet eyes focused in a new determination, "Let me handle that bigass lizard. Guy looks like the one that ate my mam."

His companion simply stared at him, _His…mother…?_ "Was it the same one?"

The humanoid reptile shakes his head, "Naw, they might be related or some shit. But either way…I gotta take him out. I just…" His eyes turned distant, remembering some past trauma, "I just gotta."

Aaron turned away, considering his options, _Well…That swordsman guy was supposed to be pretty tough, and he *did* take him out pretty easily…_ "Can you beat him?"

Phalvin shook his head again, "I dunno. Can you make it so me and him go one on one?"

_Those three from last round for sure…I know he changed the way he had his bandanna on his way out here, so that might be the signal for those three from the bathroom…And probably at least one or two more teams thinking that they can just take out that Koon brat and then overwhelm me._ The shaman turned back towards where said team had retreated to, his lack of expression pensive, _Koon would be expecting that. So he'll…have his lackeys ambush the other teams, and then try to overwhelm me. So it'd be 6…no 5 on 2. Make Phalvin take the gator one on one and it becomes 4 on 1. That's…manageable._ His thoughts on the subject completed, he gave a brief nods towards his diminutive companion, "Sure. Do whatever you can to hold him down."

The atmosphere around the turtle changed, where his eyes had formerly been wet, they were replaced by an expression of grim determination. With a fierce nod, Phalvin turned and walked to stand between his chosen preys team and the throne.

_It'd be annoying if he died before the game was over, but with a face like that, I'm sure he'll manage to last at least the next two rounds. Maybe._

_Hopefully_.

* * *

With another one of Lero-ro's awkward announcements, the Fourth Round of the Crown Game begins. As Koon's team steps out to meet their opponents, the Gator, Rak levels his gaze upon the rest of the field.

"….Only three more teams this round. Hmph, the turtles must be too scared to even come out. FINE! I will hunt you all in a flash-!"

"Don't bother." Koon interrupts smoothly.

"What?"

"You don't have to hunt yet. So don't bother wasting your energy." The white haired young man says, his bandanna returned to it's original position, "We'll need all advantages we can get when we go after the crown this round. Even after we take down the guys holding the throne, strong ones will be coming out in the next round."

"…What are you talking about?"

"You'll see."

And so they wait.

* * *

_Only three more teams, huh? Pretty much what I expected. Let's see…_

Setting aside the trio he had already seen, Aaron Gentles took account of the newcomers. To his far right, opposite Koon and his group, were a team consisting a young girl, pale skin, black hair, probably around 10 years of age or so. She glanced around the arena, taking in the sight. Next to her stood a young man with tan skin, his head shaved bald save for patch that had been left to grow out as some kind of pseudo-bangs. This one was inspecting a metallic gauntlet on his left arm that held a large blue orb over his hand. The last member of that trio was some kind of humanoid insect creature, holding together a pair of "hands" forward as if it were begging for alms or something. It's large black cloak obscured most of it's form, but the head that poked out was composed of some kind of teal chitin that covered what Aaron presumed was more vulnerable violent tissues.

_So that's the kid's ringers. Ok. So let's check out the unsuspecting victim number one…_

To left of Koon's assisting team, there was another trio of largely unremarkable looking individuals. Another redhead, this one substantially more scruffy than the others, he had the bulk necessary to act as a bruiser. His headband and grey flannel t-shirt served to reinforce the impression. To his immediate left was…

_Why is it that the insect doesn't even make me skip a beat, but I see a black guy and it throws me off my stride? Is it racism?_

_Weird._

A black guy, holding out a long, thing sword, with his long hair done up in a ponytail. He wore a tan wifebeater with a number of black lines crisscrossed on it at apparent random. The last member of this trio was an extremely corpulent pale white fellow, wearing what appeared to be some kind of grey fetish mask, and wielding a heavy looking steel mace.

_…What?_

With that thought on his mind, the shaman turned towards the last grouping of newcomers, this one consisting of some kind of teal colored humanoid flatworm, standing tall and faceless. Aaron idly wondered to himself if the two were even remotely kindred spirits, given the similar expressions they both wore. To his right, a mousy-looking short young man wore a mop of messy black hair on top of his head. And next to him was…another redhead. She was tall and attractive, but for all appearances, she could have been the older sister of the club user from the previous round.

The redhaired bruiser from the middle team was the first to break the ice, he looked to the team to his right and began shouting at the top of his lungs, "Hey! You guys! Let's not bother fighting each other! Let's join forces and take down those other guys down first! We can fight amongst ourselves after the fifth minute, how about that?!"

"I agree!" The mousy kid replied, "There's no need to waste energy uselessly!"

Aaron found himself regretting his lack of popcorn.

"In order to take those guys down we need to group-KUWAK!" The boy's friendship speech was interrupted with a comical squawk, as he was hit by some kind of flying force swiping him in the face. A brown spurt of liquid left Aaron wondering idly about the kids physiology, as Koon's ringers approached their victims. The insect stood before the redhaired woman, straightening itself up to it's full height.

"Wh..what?" The woman's expression twisted in shock and horror, as a number of chitin covered limbs wrapped tightly around her, dragging her to whatever the insect's cloak was covering. The shaman looked on with clinical disinterest as she screamed, ejecting a brown geyser as her bones emitted a horrifying crunch. Aaron turned away to look at the little girl's approach, paying little heed to the sounds of a person being eaten alive right in front of him. He found himself wondering if his erstwhile Master was made even more green than usual at the sight, before dismissing the thought.

The little girl calmly walked towards the faceless creature, its eyes focused on her. She reached out to touch it, muttering unintelligible even to the shaman's enhanced sense of hearing. As her fingers touched the teal skin, the creature shuddered, a horrified warbling screeching through the air. It then suddenly stopped, as the thing collapsed onto it's back, dead to the world.

"Bastards…!" Redhead bruiser finally reacted to the probably unexpected carnage, "What the hell are you doing?!"

Out of the corner of his eye, Aaron saw Phalvin twitch, causing the shaman to turn his attention towards the true threat.

"Didn't I tell you there's no need to fight?" The voice was Koon's.

"You…what are you yapping about since a while ago?" This time it was the gator, Rak Wreckraiser.

Aaron spared a glance at the team, before turning towards the unfolding one sided fight. It would end soon, and then it would be time for him to face these three assistants which Koon had let loose on him.

"There's no need to fight. Because they are on our side." Koon continued.

"…What?!"

"Gator, do you remember the first test?"

"Of course I remember. It was a test to make four hundred regulars into two hundred."

The bruiser's group finally reached their opponents, apparently the insect was done with his meal, as he let its remains drop to the floor messily.

"Indeed. Those were the conditions of the test." Koon began, outside his field of vision. The shaman began listening closely, having been curious as to the circumstances himself, "But I figured, following those rules would be stupid. Since even if I didn't do it, someone else would kill the two hundred." Aaron watched as the redhaired bruiser engaged Gauntlet kid, tossing a haymaker that was easily dodged, "There was simply no need for me to go out and make enemies, so this is what I thought: While someone else is killing the two hundred, I'll go out and make the other two hundred into my allies."

Aaron's eyebrows perked up at that, the explanation sliding into place as the Gator also figured it out, "Turtle…Perhaps…with that bag…?"

Koon answered, a note of smugness entering his voice, "You're right. Using this bag, I began gathering allies. I picked only the useful ones. That is, only the ones worthy to be my allies. And I made a contract with them. I said, 'I will use this bag to get you past the tests safely. In return, you will help me pass my tests.'" Koon paused, as the insect grabbed it's second victim of the day, "Though meeting up with you and creating a team was outside of my original plan. Luckily, the ones in the bag worked out perfectly in number, so I could just partner up with you and pass the test. In the next team test I managed to trick the Proctor into getting the helpers to pass, but the Administrator of the Floor seemed to have noticed. Though she wound up letting us pass anyway."

The shaman found that interesting. Not only had the Administrator, Yu Han Sung, been whimsical enough to let such a trick go through, but the erstwhile genius boy hadn't managed to catch on to the true gender of the man.

"I knew I couldn't keep them hidden any longer," Koon continued, oblivious to the discovery of such a dire weakness, "So during the break, before the game started, I pretended to go to the bathroom and let them out of my bag." Aaron nodded to himself, as the gauntlet kid got a good shot in on the bruiser, dropping him where he stood, "To be honest, I didn't want to use them during this game. This was a mere bonus game…And the chances of winning weren't that high either. But…" The boy paused, apparently in thought. Aaron watched on as the insect and bald kid began herding the mace-wielding weirdo towards the little girl, his expression clearly panicked, "I want to win." A loud shriek heralded the end of the initial clean up, as the fat man's body collapsed from whatever effect the young girl had brought to bear.

Aaron stood up, hatchet at the ready.

"I want to win. And climb the Tower with you."

* * *

Koon stands up, his explanation finished. "Let's go. Gator. Baam." He reaches into his bag and withdraws another knife, Baam stands back, letting Koon and the Gator head towards the throne.

"What's the plan, collecting turtle?"

Koon ignores the bizarre nickname for the moment, "We've got a little more than five minutes before the end of the round. Before that, we need to overwhelm the …"

A balloon shoots past his head, interrupting him mid-sentence. Koon raises his briefcase up, staring murderously at the source of the attack.

The turtle standing before them strikes a determined pose, glaring at Koon and his partner. "Yo, fool. Leave the Gator. We've got business."

Koon's eyes narrow in response to the challenge, _Losing Rak's fighting strength makes this more difficult…But…That turtle would make things difficult. That attack just now was…fast. And he beat down that swordsman on the lizard's team pretty easily, too._

Koon's gaze stays locked onto the turtle ahead of him, "Gator, can you handle this?"

Rak snorts in dismissal, "A softshell like this won't even last one minute against this Rak Wreckraiser." He taps the shaft of his spear against his massive shoulder, shooting a glare at his prey, "Go on ahead. I'll join you shortly in hunting the Faceless Turtle."

"Foo!" The turtle responds in a high pitched shriek, "My name ain't softshell! It's Phalvin! Phalvin Shellonisio!"

A barely audible chuckle rumbles from deep within the Gator's throat, "What does your name matter, softshell? You're just dinner, after all. You're barely worth a single bite, HAHAHAHA!"

Phalvin glares at Koon's teammate, his eyes burning with some deep seated emotion, "You said your name is Wreckraiser. Right?!"

Rak snorts, "Indeed, softshell. That is this Rak's clan."

A frosty murderous intent fills the air, causing Koon to blink in surprise, "Then you and me…We've got business, Wreckraiser!" The tiny lizard dashes towards it's much larger opponent with a somewhat shocking speed. Rak casually slams down his spear, his expression dismissive. A loud smack rings out, as Koon feels the air shake from the impact of the strike. He blinks at the result, as the turtle blocked the giant's swing with both arms raised over his head.

Rak gives a slow blink, his expression turning rapturous, "Then it's a hunt! HAHAHAHA!"

* * *

Aaron watched the drama unfold, as Phalvin lived up to his end of the bargain. Koon approached the throne, leaving the fight alone.

_So he's planning on saving energy for the last round? How arrogant._

At his approach, Koon's assisting team began heading towards the shaman. "So, I guess it would be too much to hope that you'd all come at me one at a time?" Aaron smirked, teeth glinting through the crack on his face, "Let's begin."

Aaron relaxed, the cyan creature striking first, leaping towards him with an incomprehensible snarl. He allowed it's approach, waiting for the gauntlet boy's ranged attack to be launched. He obliged. The attack was some form of ball, Aaron's mystically enhanced vision enabling him to easily see it coming. His left hand came up, palm empty, hatchet held lazily in his right. The creature reared up in front of him, loud clacking filling his hearing, Aaron allowed his smirk to grow.

The ball swept in from the right side of the insect, careening towards his extend left palm, Aaron began tucking his arm in, as the attack swerved madly off course, missing him completely. The creatures roar took on a choking quality, as Aaron's hand shot forward into the depth's of it, pistol in his grip. A rapid succession of dry cracks rang out, as the shaman turned away from the enemy at his front, his gaze locked behind him just in time to catch a brilliant flash, right hand lashing out.

The lighting halted abruptly, the clang of steel hitting steel ringing out from between Koon and his target. A cruel smirk met Koon's shocked expression, their two weapon's biting into one another. The moment of surprise vanished, the white haired boy's expression turning into a confident smirk of his own. A soft thud marked the collapse of the creature to his back, as the shaman's opponent raised an eyebrow, pointing to his side. Aaron shifted his gaze behind him, where the small girl stood nonchalantly at his back. Her expression blank, she placed an outstretched palm against the shaman's spine.

The white haired boy smiled in triumph, "The barrier." The unspoken threat was obvious.

The shaman decided to tempt fate regardless, "I hear an 'or else'."

"Or else you wind up like Flatworm and S&M over there."

Aaron shrugged, idly raising his other arm and squeezing off another shot. The scream that came in response was ignored by everyone, the gauntlet user's posture ruined by the sudden destruction of his knee. The boy's day further complicated as his attacking ball smashed into his skull, having failed to catch it on it's return. The shaman's left hand came up, pointing the gun barrel at Koon.

Wordlessly, the blue boy smirked, and broke the deadlock, stepping back as he did so.

_The girl muttered some kind of Aria as she touched them, so…_

Aaron let his mind wander, visualizing a bud growing from the earth, shooting up, thickening as it became a tree, the tree became a forest, and his magic circuits opened, flooding his body with od. The girl began her muttering in that same second, and the shaman felt an unfamiliar energy attempt to force it's way into his body, only to be held back by the energy his magic circuits were producing. He stiffened, focused on it, and then directed the flood of his energies at the source of the invasion, forcing it back out.

A shrill scream rent the air as the young child whipped her arm back, clutching it in plain agony. Aaron leered, training his pistol on the child, only for an audible click to issue in response to his pulling the trigger. His expression twisting in annoyance, he swiped the butt of the weapon at her head, sending the child flying.

Koon frowned, raising his knife up as he prepared to begin his own onslaught.

* * *

Phalvin tucked and rolled to the side, preparing another balloon to launch against the Gator. Barely dodging the point of his spear, the shaft swept out in a line, sending the turtle flying through the air with a mild grunt. The empty rubber met his beaklike mouth, filling with energy and purpose as the turtle exhaled into it. Preparations complete, the turtle spun in midair, facing his opponent as he let it fly. The bizarre weapon hurtled forward, impacting against it's target with a dramatic explosion. Even so, Rak Wreckraiser pursued his prey undeterred.

"Softshell! Is this it?! If you can't even accomplish anything other than getting swatted aside, I'll crack open that shell of yours and end this game right now!"

Phalvin shuts his eyes, his mind flashing back, to the source of his hatred. A massive, happy spawn on a far off floor where the Shinsoo was thick. His parents had been lucky, the clutch of eggs that they had left behind was unexpectedly bountiful. Unlike most of the turtles that had returned with him, he was fortunate enough to have true blood related brothers and sisters. It had been a happy childhood. He was always the smallest, the most stunted. His larger siblings had always jokingly referred to him as "Gator Bait" due to how round and stunted he was, making an easy target.

Even so, he was happy back then.

Then, one day, the pod was migrating for the summer season to where the weather was warmer along a centuries old route. When they unexpectedly found a pack of ravenous giant humanoid alligators lying in wait.

It couldn't even be called a fight. The pod scattered, in hopes of preserving what numbers they could. But even though they numbered in the thousands, the dozen or so Wreckraisers tore through them like the scythe through wheat. Like fire through a dry field. Phalvin could only watch in horror as his parents charged forward to distract one of the hulking creatures, only to be impaled on it's spear.

He swam for his life after that. Some time later, as he felt himself slowly starving to death due to lack of experience with taking care of himself, he was given the gift of salvation. He eagerly grabbed the outstretched hand of the silent Guardian of the Tower, Headon, and became a Regular.

And here, right in front of him, stood his hated enemy.

He was so happy to get a chance to avenge his family. So grateful to the God of the Tower for this opportunity to make things right.

He would find every single one of these Wreckraisers. And he would _kill. Them. All._

* * *

Aaron didn't have time to load his pistol. It could work as a makeshift club, but it would be ineffectual against Koon's vastly superior briefcase. Dismissing it back to his shadow, the shaman summoned his obsidian knife to replace it.

"Are you really that desperate to win this bonus game?" He inquired of the white haired boy facing him.

Koon simply grimaced in annoyance, his eyes never leaving Aaron, his hand slid into the bag, withdrawing a number of knives, which he tossed at the shaman. Aaron simply swatted them aside with his hatchet, sending them flying awkwardly through the air. The boy continued retreating, his back to where the Gator and Turtle were continuing their fierce struggle.

_So I guess he's out of options, then._ Aaron observed, disappointed, "Time to finish it, then." He charged forward, flooding the enhancement runes built into his clothes with prana. At his approach, Koon's eyes shifted back and forth, his expression neutral, analyzing.

Aaron had boxed him in with the earlier exchange, directly behind him was the battle between Phalvin and his opponent, and the shaman found it unlikely that the boy in front of him could run at that lightning pace backwards. Which left him with only two other avenues of escape, to the left and right. To Koon's left was the throne, and the protective charm around it. Impacting against it would end the fight immediately, as he already knew, and moving to his right would provide him little advantage other than some more space to run. A waste of time, considering the enhanced speed Aaron was now chasing him down with.

The shaman felt himself leering at his cornered prey, shifting his weight to leap at the boy as he turned to run. As expected, Koon turned, his back towards Aaron as he turned to run. An instant too late.

It was over.

Aaron leaped, leading with Timber Falls as he swung down at Koon's shoulder, planning on divesting the boy of his far, far too useful briefcase. The numerous uses he would put it towards were already filling the shaman's thoughts, when the boy simply continued turning, one hand holding the bag up, and the other lifting it's frontal flap in his direction. The boy looked at his opponent, victorious smirk blossoming.

"Eat it up. Manbarondena."

A black _force_ poured out from the bag, sucking in the air in front of and around the shaman. In a moment of raw panic, Aaron twisted in midair, digging his heels into the ground. His posture was ruined, but he had escaped jumping directly into his opponent's trap.

As the two faced each other, they both wore an expression of shock. Manbarondena was still held open, continuing to greedily drink in everything else in front of it, a noticeable wind forming, as air was drawn into the vacuum of the accessory.

Aaron broke the silence first, "What the hell is that thing?!"

Koon remained silent, this time walking towards the shaman, clearly attempting to draw him into it's swirling depths. The boy wore an expression of grim determination, as Aaron resummoned his pistol, this time with one of his precious spare clips of ammunition. A sudden inhuman snarling was the only warning the shaman received as the cyan insect barreled into him from behind, sending him sprawling. Desperate, Aaron pushed the exposed torso of the creature off of him, wondering just where the hell it had come from, as he saw a slick trail of green ichor leading towards a puddle of the stuff, when the explanation suddenly fell into place.

"GENTLES!" Parakewl screamed, his voice high pitched and horrified.

Koon had been aiming to draw in the insect from the beginning. Koon had no desire to fight a prolonged close quarters engagement with him, as intent on preserving stamina for the next round as he had been. The moment Aaron had overturned his initial ambush by knocking out the child, Koon had already planned out a more certain trap. Allowing Aaron to corner him. Drawing Aaron in so that his back would be exposed to the insect creature at all times. Keeping him occupied so that the clash of steel on steel would keep him from noticing the stirs of the creatures return to consciousness. And when he sprung Manbarondena's trap, he had even hedged that Aaron would be able to counter that somehow, even if his shock at the shaman outright ignoring it's _ranged_ suction effects had been real. All of that was to lead up to the certain kill of Aaron being drawn into this creatures pincers in the moment he was adjusting his stance.

That one moment of weakness.

That annoying smirk that looked down on him condescendingly. That annoying bastard looking down on him as he struggled messily upon the floor just to remain alive.

"Well, I guess we can just have the Black March bust open whatever trick you've set up. Or we can just use that axe's ignition to do the job." Koon bent his knees, crouching to get a better look at the shaman, "I doubt you'll be needing it after my friend here is done repaying you for that hole you opened up in him."

The Unsung Goby Master stood upon his throne, brandishing Foehammer threateningly, "Useless trash disciple! Get up! How dare you fail like this in front of me!"

The white haired boy rolled his eyes dismissively, "Honestly, I think I'm doing you a favor, killing off that annoying Goby for you. I don't even know him and I'm already sick of him."

Aaron grunted with exertion, a smile cracking his wooden features, "Sorry, but that one's mine."

Koon smirked, "It's almost a shame to kill you. I'd have liked to see what other tricks you have in that bag of yours."

A wooden chuckle, "Oh, I'm sure you'll see quite a bit more of me yet."

A frown, "Well, guess I'd better just make sure then."

A knife is grasped, "Then, you'd better make sure to cover those eyes of yours."

A panicked chittering, "What-?!"

And then a muffled explosion, as bits of green ichor violently spray out into the air, Koon holds up Manbarondena, as it drank up the liquid and insect bits greedily.

As Koon moved the bag away from in front of his face, his opponent had gotten back to his feet, waving a red tipped finger in front of himself.

"Still had some paint left."

* * *

Phalvin was gradually getting cornered. He could feel it. The Gator had ceased with his wide sweeps, and was now gradually herding him towards the wall of the arena. As much as Phalvin jumped, and as many balloons as he shot at his hated enemy, he simply was unable to overcome the Gator's far superior skill with his weapon, or his ability to literally ignore the concussive force of his balloon attacks.

_Like hell imma let it end here! I'll kill him! I'll kill him and then I'll kill his family! Let him see how it feels! Fuck this guy!_

The corners of his vision began to be dyed red, his fury reaching a boiling point. Phalvin didn't know what would happen when that time came, but he knew that there was something, _something_ that lay on the other end of that point.

He just had to survive long enough to reach it.

But now, his lack of exercise came back to haunt him, his breath coming in shorter and shorter gasps, until he found himself unable to dodge one of the Gator's stabs, and was sent flying back into the wall from the impact. The arena wall cracked from where his shell had slammed against it, and Phalvin shakily drew himself back up to his feet. Rak approached, his feet clacking against the floor.

"Hmph. Is that it, softshell? I expected more. It seems that I've had nothing but disappointment in my hunts so far today."

Phalvin drew himself up, glaring at the towering creature with an expression of pure hatred, "You…tell me just one thing."

Rak rested the shaft of his spear against his shoulder, gazing down his snout at the turtle in front of him, "Hmph. Speak."

Panting, Phalvin drew himself up to his full height, as insubstantial as it was, "You…You…just how many turtles have you eaten for that body of yours?!"

The Gator's expression froze, and then shifted into a sneer.

"Turtle. Do you count the number of breads that you've eaten?"

_Oh. There it is_.

"If you don't have anything else to add, softshell, then it's time to bring this hunt to an end." The Gator hefted his spear up, drawing it back in preparation to throw it.

_So that's all we are to him. That's all my family was. This guy…This guy…This…Bastard!_

"You put up a better fight than most, turtle. I'll be sure to savor that flavor." The Wrackraiser hurled the spear with all his strength, the weapon becoming a red streak of light as it sped towards Phalvin. The turtle did not move, except to tremble with rage, hatred, and despair.

"I'll kill you….I'll kill _all of you..!_"

The spear struck him, slamming the turtle against the wall and throwing up a cloud of dust where the arena wall further cracked from the impact.

"Phalvin! You useless trash!" Was Parakewl's only response, having spared the fight a glance now that his other disciple was no longer in immediate danger, "Don't you dare fail me before getting me to the next floor, you trash weakling turtle!"

The dust around the impact eventually began to dissipate, as Rak let out a snort of dismissal. He stalked forward to retrieve his prize.

"Hey foo'! Have this back!"

The dust cloud parted, as Rak's red spear was hurtled back towards him. The towering Gator caught it easily, turning back towards where the turtle was standing, his shell giving off an ethereal glow. He panted heavily, glaring defiantly, as the light dimmed and Phalvin's shell returned to it's regular waxy luster.

"…I suppose this hunt is not over yet, turtle." Rak snorted, tapping the shaft of his spear into an open claw.

"AAAAAAAAAND TEN MINUTES HAVE NOW ELAPSED!" Lero-ro's voice echoed through the arena, "And with the defending team still on the throne at the end of the Fourth Round, there will be one confirmed advancing team! The surviving team will be given priority placement in joining subsequent rounds once again!"

Rak turned towards the source of the voice, giving a light shrug at the interruption. His stare returned to the clearly winded Phalvin. Rak turned to the turtle, leveling his weapon at him.

"We finish this in the next round, softshell." The Gator turned, his cloak billowing dramatically, "Wash your neck." He walked towards his black haired team mate, joined shortly by Koon. Phalvin's murder-filled eyes followed the backs of the trio until they were obscured by the bars of their waiting room, his beak clenching hard enough to draw blood all the while. Finally, with a deep, shuddering sigh, he returned to the throne, where his own team mates were waiting.

* * *

"What the hell was that, you trash?!" Parakewl shrieked from his perch atop the throne, "Both of you almost died, leaving me to fail this game! How is this great me supposed to pass the rest of these tests without a team, huh?!"

The Shaman and the Turtle turned identical hate-filled glares towards the chamber where their foes had retreated to.

"It's a good thing the round ended when it did, you trash disciples!" Parakewl continued, "Both of you looked like you were on your last legs! And those other trash weren't even winded!" Parakewl stood up suddenly, leveling a finger at Aaron, "And [i]you![/i] What magic?! Why couldn't you handle a measly four Regulars, trash?! We've got the last round coming up, so everyone's going to rush to jump in! How do you plan on holding off a full five teams like that, Gentles, huh?!"

The shaman grimaced, "Sir, there's no problems with that. That barrier is powerful enough to easily repel two creatures at the strength of that Anak Zahard for the entire duration of the round." He paused, not seeing the Eternal Goby King's rage abate in the slightest before continuing, "I've been feeding it my od in between rounds so that it remains at full capacity. You have no need to worry." He bows haltingly towards his erstwhile Master, "Even if Phalvin and I should fall in the next round, the throne remains an impenetrable fortress for all intents and purposes. This Crown Game is already your victory."

Parakewl sneered, doubt and annoyance crossing his features, as he stared at the well-dressed man before him, who had by some miracle avoided staining his clothes with the ichor of the insect creature he had exploded from right on top of him. His gaze flickered on his would be disciple, searching. He apparently found what he was looking for, as he leaned back, and swept his arm out regally, "Very well, Gentles. Do not fail me."

The shaman bowed once more, the floor filling his vision, "As you command, Master."

* * *

Ship Lee Soo stared out in wonder at the scene that had unfolded before his eyes.

"Those guys are doing really good…They almost cornered that faceless guy and the turtle just now." His gaze shifted, turning towards his teammate, "What're you going to do if, at this rate, they really do win…Anak?"

The Zahard's Princess simply stared, her expression pensive.

There were other monsters that had yet to take their turn at taking the crown, after all.

* * *

Koon stares off into space, his expression twisted in frustration. "This is bad."

"Mr. Koon…?" Baam replies, his tone hesitant, "What do you mean? I thought you and Mr. Rak did a great job."

Koon shakes his head in negation, "That's not it. We were supposed to take the crown from those guys this round." He runs his hand through his hair roughly, rattled, "I pretty much showed all my cards to try and get that faceless bastard to hand over the throne and his barrier trick over to us." He turns to face his black-haired friend, "Baam, I don't have any more teams waiting to back us up. And since we don't control the throne, that means that you'll be out there, in danger."

He shakes his head again, and stares outside the bars of their new cage, "This situation…is bad. Especially since we'll not only be fighting the faceless bastard, but four other teams. One of which is the Regulars from the other district for sure."

Rak snorts, and levels a measuring glare at his teammate, "Scamming turtle, where is your banana? If we have five sets of enemies, then all that means is that we have five times the prey." The towering gator looks away, his gaze turned towards the throne as well, "So what if they have seen all your tricks and traps? You've seen the faceless turtles as well. All this means…" And at this, Rak Wreckraiser turns his gaze back towards his comrades, "Is that we now have nothing to hold back."

Baam nods in agreement, "That's right, Mr. Koon. I'm not afraid of fighting. And with your help, and Mr. Rak's, and Black March's, there's no way that we won't win this game. I mean, no matter how strong the other teams are, there's no way they're as strong as us or Mr. Aaron's team, right?"

Koon stares at his friend, measuring his steady, determined gaze, before sighing and placing his hands behind his head, "Yeah…you're right." His tension disappears, as his gaze returns to the throne, a confident smirk forming again on his face, "All we have to do…is take the crown, after all. Can't be that hard, can it?"

* * *

In another cell, a cloaked girl raised her arms above her head, stretching them,"Mhmmmmmm! Well, that was fun to watch." She turned back towards her companions, one a colossal figure that easily dwarfed even the Wreckraiser, and the other was shorter than even that fake Anak Zahard.

"Guess we should be getting ready to go out, right?"

The giant rumbled his assent, while tiny figure gave a tiny nod, before slowly getting to her feet.

"Ummm…Actually," She said, her voice a light, nasally tremble, "There was something that I was wondering if we can do…if you don't mind…"

The taller girl grins at her, nodding confidently.

The shorter girl shuffles up to the bars, and looks out across the arena, her pale yellow eyes searching. As she gazes out sadly, she mouths a single word.

"…Baam…"

* * *

_A.N.: Huh, so Gators are his trigger. Shoulda seen that coming._

_This Chapter took a bit longer for me to write than I expected, since there's just a lot that I needed to set up for future chapters, and also I needed to hammer out some inconsistencies that had sprung up, so I'll be going over previous chapters sometime this week to iron that out and neaten them up. I'd originally just decided to upload the first few chapters from a fiction thread for ToG over on Batoto, and there's a fair bit of difference in the standards between a random lark and a serious project._

_Still, 2000 views is pretty humbling. I'm still kinda amazed that my first work got so many views, and that's thanks to all you guys who've taken the time to read this chapter. I truly thank you for taking the time to read this small work of mine._

_Speaking of which, as of the moment I'm writing this, I just finished reading the epilogue of Gabriel Blessings incredible In Flight fic. Its really the cream of the crop of Fate/stay night fics. So I'm just gonna lay this out here, since I've got the chance for now:_

_Shirou Emiya will not appear in this story for a long, long time. Aaron Gentles is most definitely an Original Character in the vein of the Nasuverse, with a few minor alterations to make him more of a threat with his magecraft, and thus opportunity to grow to keep pace with those who climb the Tower. But this is first and foremost a F/SN and ToG crossover. People always seem to gravitate towards the Emiya household in one way or another when writing most fics, or maybe reference the occasional Zelretch trolling._

_But the Nasuverse is a lot bigger than that, you know? _

_Well, for now, I'm going to give Season 1 the same treatment SIU did, and slowly introduce you all to the Tower as seen by Aaron Gentles. I've got the plot more or less set in stone, so now all I have to do is make sure that my skills are up to the task. A friend of mine recommended to me that I take a look at some R.A. Salvatore books before writing the next chapter, and his books are apparently highly recommended for their action scenes, so Ill definitely see if I can't pick up some tricks._

_Those already familiar with Round 5 now just how much of a clusterfuck lies ahead, after all._

_So for now I'll lay down my pen, and I look forward to seeing you all next time._

_Still though, that was a close call. It's a good thing that Mary Sues are invincible and perfect, aren't they?_


End file.
